Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
“ C ome on. Let’s spend the weekend together. Do some shopping, go dancing?” Fee nudged me when I didn’t immediately react to her question about visiting her in New York City.
Not that her suggestion didn’t sound fun since I would get out of this house for a while. But the prospect of being in the same city as Vince Salvini made my stomach churn with anxiety.
“We’ll go back to Italy on Thursday. You could come with us,” she continued.
My stomach tightened, and I shook my head. Hell no—that was my gut instinct every time I even thought about going back to Italy. “I don’t know,” I said slowly. “Going to New York for the weekend sounds fun, but?—”
“Don’t let Vince Salvini dictate your moves.”
I glared at her. Was she a mind reader now? But as much as I hated to admit it, she had a point. Letting Vince influence my decisions would be letting him win. And I refused to hand him that kind of power over me. “Salvini doesn’t dictate anything. All I wanted to say was that I’m not ready for Italy.”
Fee sat up, her brow furrowed. “You’re not ready for Italy? Why?” She stared at me, then her eyes widened. “You can’t let what happened there intimidate you into hiding away forever.”
I opened my mouth to protest. I’d been to Italy for Sophie’s wedding. I thought I was okay, but honestly, even hearing the language spoken had kept me on edge, and I hadn’t had a single good night of sleep while I’d been there. “It’s not?—”
Fee held up a hand to stop me. “I’m not saying you have to live there or anything. Just…don’t let the bullshit that happened to us scare you off from living your life, you know?”
I worried my lip, considering her words. But before I could respond, Alex’s voice drifted in from the hallway. “Hey, Princess, you ready to go?”
Fee sighed and rolled off the bed. “I gotta run. Just think about it, okay? And let’s definitely do NYC this weekend. I need new shoes.” She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and headed for the door.
“I will,” I promised. I already knew I wouldn’t go to Italy with her. But I could face Vince for one weekend.
So what if the memory of him crowding me against that bookshelf made my heart stutter? I’d been so flustered in that moment that my carefully constructed walls had crumbled under the intensity of his piercing gaze.
But it wouldn’t be like that the next time. I would be prepared. Prepared for that dizzying energy between us. Prepared to unravel the enigma that was Vincenzo Salvini. And being in NYC would be a good opportunity to get to know him better. Find his vulnerabilities in real life because doing that from behind the screen was nearly impossible.
It was a plan—just maybe not a smart one—because a part of me knew going anywhere near him was a dangerous game that could potentially lead to disaster.
I got up and moved over to my desk and my laptop. It was time to check in again and start putting my plan…or plans into action.
#1 Find incriminating evidence on Salvini.
#2 Prepare to disappear in case #1 failed.
I went through my ritual of multi-layer protection before I logged into the chatroom…and entered complete mayhem.
There were messages flying, and it was more active in there than ever. What the hell was going on?
A separate channel popped up.
Iset: hey, I’ve wondered where you were.
Nyx: why? what’s going on?
I moved back to the main channel but then couldn’t make sense of the discussion happening.
Iset: someone posted that they know our real identities and are threatening to auction them off to the highest bidder if we don’t comply with their demands by this weekend.
I froze, my blood turning to ice in my veins as I read Iset’s words over and over again. This couldn’t be happening. How did they find out who we were? And what demands were they talking about? And what if that list already got out? It would explain Salvini’s actions. Was this how he knew?
Nyx: fr? WTF???? Please tell me this is just a sick prank.
Iset: idk. everyone is freaking out. afaic seems legit based on the op and the reactions in the main chat.
My hands trembled as I typed out a response.
Nyx: what can we do? if they really know who we are…what do they want?
Iset: idk. let’s hope and pray it’s a bluff. but we’ll know more by this weekend since that’s the deadline.
Nyx: do they want money or something?
Iset: no idea. but they must want something, right? otherwise, why even tell us?
Nyx: auctioning off our names—is that even a thing? who bids on a list of names?
Iset: fr? anyone we hacked and stole money from, maybe?
Shit. She was right. We’d focused on crime syndicates. That was the whole concept—to only take from criminal organizations. We should’ve thought this through better.
Iset: maybe we shouldn’t discuss this here. Should we try to meet up IRL? figure this out in person.
I paused with my fingers hovering over the keyboard. I didn’t even know how to answer, but meeting up in person seemed…incredibly stupid and dangerous.
Iset: I’m going to be in NYC over the weekend. we could meet there. somewhere with a lot of people.
My eyes widened at the coincidence. New York would be the perfect place to meet—big enough for anonymity. And I would already be there if I went to visit Fee and Alex. Still, a nagging sense of doubt crept in. Could I really trust Iset?
Iset: I know it’s risky, and we have no reason to trust each other. Here’s a number to a burner phone. if you decide you want to meet—text me.
A string of digits appeared in the chat window.
I was still staring at my screen. What the hell was happening? Was this for real?
I switched over to the main channel window with messages flying over the screen. Everyone was panicking.
A ding alerted me to a new message.
Iset: got that?
I quickly jotted the numbers down on a scrap of paper.
Nyx: got it
Iset: Good. we shouldn’t use this to chat anymore, just to be safe.
Before I could respond, our private messaging channel disappeared, clearly wiped clean by Iset.
My heart pounded in my chest as the severity of the situation really sank in. What had started as an online quest for power and rebellion had suddenly become potentially life-threatening.
I logged out and closed my laptop with a trembling hand, equal parts terrified and furious with myself.
How could I’ve been so naive, trusting strangers I’d only known through coded identities on the internet?
Even Iset—was she even a she? And how did I know she was on my side?
I buried my face in my hands, panic and uncertainty swirling through my mind. Getting this deeply involved in the online hacking world had been a colossal mistake.
I straightened. There was no going back now. All I could do was try to stay one step ahead…and pray that this was all an empty threat.
I needed to put my plan in motion. Needed a new identity for that first and foremost.
I opened my laptop again, then pulled up the access to Dad’s system.
Ironic how the very thing I hated so much, I was using now—my father’s network of criminals. I pulled up the entry I’d stumbled across earlier labeled “New documents”—which sounded harmless enough—only I knew Mr. Slatov, the man behind the NYC address. He was my dad’s go-to guy for whatever official documents he needed to be forged. Business permits, a new identity.
Maybe it wasn’t smart to ask someone who worked for my dad. But it was the only starting point I had.
And it was time to stop hesitating and get the plan moving…starting with going to NYC.