The Mafia Lord's Hacker

R I

me had

ion how something so angry could ease me into feeling melancholy. Maybe it was the memories that resurfaced every time I walked out here. Maybe it was the

The sky was darker than normal, and t

evaporate, condense, and then we precipitate. Evaporation is our beginning, where we dream and hope. Condensation is the realizatio

e lifted into the gray of the clouds as beads of water fell from the sky. T

aves. Not fear, not hatred, and no worries. Just beautiful na

oking at me. It had been years since I last seen my mother. Every statement that questioned if my mother was still alive was

was unsettling about my home. When my gaze wandered ov

, I stepped into my home before closing the door behind me. Fear took o

y bedroom. With each step toward my room, the beep

hat lies behind my bedroom door. Leisurely, I pushed it open. The beeping was coming fro

ho you a

game. Retur

l of your

our identity

thirty

person out of their system and robs them of whatever that hacker is looking for. I've done it on a few o

on the chair and began to work my magic with a hack of my own. They have my files,

re lodging myself into the system of

but he was innocent of the crimes I was searching for. What I did find of Saint, it left

e I still had about twenty seconds le

ffi

too many encryption codes that would take days to decode. The widening of my eyes

Harpi

pered. It wa

it out alive. Saint was known for no mercy. He especially wouldn't hand it over

erson got through my firewall. It took y

econd

able pace. I needed to get out of

e out on my face as my computer finally unlocked itself. I did it. However, my job was not don

k," I whispered to myself

to shoot my hac

he files over

must lea

ening someone so organized and merciless was never going to do me any justice. I signed away my

drums, leaving me to grimace. When all the lights in m

ing began squeezing at my heart. So many ideas were running through my brain, but

e was impossible to get through. Not even Gary McKinnon could figure out a wa

ve broke i

kept trying to contemplate how to handle this situation because I knew running was not

ming underneath my mattress that would allow me to slip into there. Whoever was in my home

I found myself praying to whoever would listen. The last thing I wanted

to confirm my suspicions. This was the mafia--the Italian mafia. Saint was a

k harder," A differ

through me. It made it difficult t

my hand over my mouth. The shoes were joined by hands before a head poked under the bed. Luck was defi

her voice stated. A pressure began to push down on me

ish I could understand what he w

ut. They were pushing the bed down onto my back. When the pressu

nd h