Song Rec': Teacher's Pet — Melanie Martinez.
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C A S T I E L
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"Bye, Mr. Stepanov." Jules waved at me before leaving to see his mother at the entrance of the classroom.
"Goodbye, Jules." I waved back, continuing to pack my belongings into my bag.
"Have a pleasant day, Mr. Stepanov." his mother bid farewell with a flirtatious purr.
"You too," I replied, not paying attention to her while Jules dragged her out, excited to go home.
This was a typical part of my Fridays at Springfield Elementary School.
After finishing up, I closed the windows and took my leave, locking the classroom door behind me.
As I walked towards the exit, my phone beeped with a message. I read the text from my secretary, Harry, through the pop-up notification.
"We're here, sir."
Good to know.
"Enjoy your weekend, Mr. Stepanov," Steve, the janitor, greeted as I walked past him.
I nodded with a slight smile. "You too, Steve."
When I reached the door, I adjusted my baseball cap and added a face mask to conceal my identity. Not that I was hiding from anyone, but I wasn't in the mood for bright camera flashes and crazy paparazzi street interviews.
To Springfield, I was just Mr. Stepanov, the substitute science teacher. But to the rest of the world, I was Castiel Grey Stepanov, billionaire and tech guru, owner of Xenonov.
Although I had amassed success and fame over the years, I still couldn't let this place go. It was like escapism from the endless board meetings and heavy responsibilities.
I only had to finish up with school by noon and return to the office until 9 pm, but at least it was fulfilling to see the smiles of children daily.
I stepped outside, slipping my hands into my coat pockets as I took in the blissful scent of early fall at Mayfair. The vibrating sound of leaf blowers filled the environment as a few cleaners cleared up the playground, now covered in faded leaves.
"Mr. Stepanov! Mr. Stepanov!" Ms. Beckham called after me, and I stopped in my tracks, waiting for her to catch up. I had been ignoring her since yesterday, so it was best if I heard what she had to say today.
"Hi." I greeted as she tried to catch her breath.
"I've been calling you since you left the classroom. Thank you for helping me cover for Arts class in Year 4."
"It's nothing. You're welcome."
"Mr. Bradley mentioned that a new pupil would be joining your class soon. I don't know why parents are this way; the semester is almost over, and it'll be hard for them to cope."
"I appreciate your concern, but coping would depend on the child. Every child has their unique abilities and limits to those abilities. There are some kids who started out last semester and are still far behind academically."
As more parents found Springfield a worthy option for their children's elementary education, it made me pleased and proud of the proprietor, Bradley.
Seven years ago, when I applied to work here, it was a small, rundown facility with very few teachers. Bradley had accepted me even though I was still a freshman at St. Hilda's, trying to make ends meet.
Investing in developing this place was one of the best decisions I made, and the least I could do for him since he took me under his wing.
"I heard that they registered from Ireland and moved to Mayfair recently. I also heard—"
"I'll tell Ms. Daisy about it," I cut her off. Once you pay attention to one of Ms. Beckham's 'I heard,' she's bound to keep going on for hours. Every word she utters keeps draining the time that I don't have.
Clicking my tongue, I checked my watch, and a car horn blared from a nearby tree. Harry was here.
"My ride's here, I'll see you around," I said.
"Yeah...I'll see you around," she laughed nervously.
I continued my walk towards the black Mercedes GLS Maybach 600 parked in front of the school.
The driver stepped out to open the door, and I got into the comfort of the air conditioner, simultaneously resting my head on the headrest as the car drove away.
Harry cleared his throat as he adjusted his sitting position. "Sir, for today, you'll—"
"Hold it. You can continue with my schedule when we get to the office."
"Well, aside from that...Giovanni just dropped a major update regarding the Loughtons."
My eyelids flickered open. "I'm listening."
"Their estranged daughter returned to England last week. The one they snuck out of the country."
"Did he uncover why she left?"
"He's currently on it. I understand this isn't a major lead, but whatever George Loughton has hidden under his sleeves could be used as a means to take him down."
I sat up. "Take him down? Falling is very easy. I'm going to drag him down and watch him groan in misery before I end that bastard's life. Send a message to Giovanni and ask him to keep an eye on that household, especially the one who returned from hiding."
"Yes, sir."