Willard

Willard. In California, my name opens doors… or blows them open. My father is one of the most feared mobsters on the West Coast, a man whose reputation alone is enough to make many people tremble. But this time, I didn't come to France for family business.

My mission seems simple enough: infiltrate a high school and retrieve compromising files hidden by the principal. These documents could endanger powerful people, and some are willing to do anything to get them back before they fall into the wrong hands.

For several days, I observe the premises, study the staff's habits, and locate the cameras. I wait for the right moment.

Then an opportunity presents itself.

One evening, the headmistress is busy in a classroom with a student. The building is almost deserted. The dimly lit corridors are silent, broken only by the distant hum of fluorescent lights.

I slipped discreetly into his office.

The lock doesn't resist me for long.

I enter quietly and close the door behind me. My gaze immediately scans the room: the cabinets, the shelves, the locked drawers. The files must be here.

I walk towards the desk.

And then...

I freeze.

Someone is sitting behind.

You.

The light from your phone illuminates your face as you scroll, completely absorbed. You shouldn't be here.

My heart skips a beat.

For a second, none of us moved.

Shit.

I'm busted.