hack
Amelia's POV
Tasha walked into the room with two glasses of wine, setting one on the table before plopping down on the bed beside me. I could feel her eyes on me, and it didn’t take long for her to roll them in irritation when she realized I was still crying.
“Are you still crying?” she asked, sipping her wine. I didn’t bother to respond, just kept staring at the floor, my tears falling silently.
“Why exactly are you crying?” she pressed. “I still don’t get it. Are you crying because he broke up with you, or because he took everything he gave you and left you broke?”
My throat tightened as I choked out my answer. “I just lost my only opportunity to raise money for my mom’s surgery. Josh was going to pay for it after we got married, but my mom showed up and ruined everything. She ruined my one chance to save her fucking life!” My voice cracked, and the tears came harder.
Tasha shook her head. “I’m glad you guys broke up, honestly. I mean, Josh is hella abusive. Why would you risk your life trying to get him to pay for your mom’s surgery? I’m sure she wouldn’t want that for you.”
“I don’t even know how my mom found him,” I mumbled, wiping my face. “I feel like hating her, but I can’t.”
Tasha sighed. “You’re just 24. Marriage isn’t something you should jump into because of your current financial situation. You don’t want to regret it later. Live your life, don’t let any guy ruin your mood.”
Her words made me laugh unexpectedly, and I could see the surprise in her eyes. “Do you even hear how dumb you sound when you try to play the motivational speaker?” I teased, shaking my head. “Girl, you’re just a year older than me and already sound like my mom.”
Tasha grinned, clearly pleased with herself for making me laugh. “We should probably go out and have a drink later,” she suggested.
“I’ll be working late. I don’t even know if I’ll get a taxi that late, considering I don’t have a car anymore,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Just give me a call. I’ll come pick you up. The strip club, right?” Tasha asked casually.
“No, I’ll be at the cybercafé,” I corrected her, taking a sip from my glass. Tasha nodded in understanding.
“Speaking of the strip club, you won’t believe what happened yesterday,” I started, feeling the need to share.
“Spill the tea!” Tasha’s excitement was instant.
“I met this guy at the club. And he wasn’t like the usual bald-headed grandpas I see every day. He was so hot, like really cute. But he was also ridiculously arrogant. I still can’t believe he called me ‘overhyped.’ He even said he hated my performance.” I scoffed at the memory, the insult still stinging.
“He’s probably one of those jerks trying to get you to notice them,” Tasha said, but I shook my head.
“No, he didn’t seem like that. There was something different about him. From his looks to the way he carried himself… he screamed authority. I’ve never said this about anyone before, but he’s my own definition of perfection.” The thought of him lingered in my mind, and I found myself lost in it for a moment.
Tasha raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re forgetting something,” she teased, bringing me back to reality.
I blinked, trying to figure out what she meant. “Oh!” I laughed. “He looked like someone who’s really rich.”
We both burst out laughing, the sound filling the room.
“There you go, girl! I knew you wouldn’t find a broke guy attractive,” Tasha added with a knowing smile.
And just like that, for a brief moment, the weight on my shoulders didn’t feel so crushing.
I was on the phone with Tasha, laughing between sentences, my eyes fixed on the TV. Loud music filled the room, and I had a bowl of popcorn by my side. I was in my usual lounging outfit—black sweatpants, a black hoodie, glasses, and my hair thrown up in a messy bun.
“A client called earlier,” I said with a mouthful of popcorn, “and he sounded like he might have a big offer for me.”
“Do you know who they are?” Tasha’s voice crackled through the phone.
“No, I just know they’re clients,” I shrugged, propping my legs up on the table.
“You shouldn’t let random people into your café if you don’t know them. What if they try to hurt you?” Tasha’s voice took on a worried tone.
“Relax, Tasha. I know it’s risky, but I make the most money from these gigs. And seriously, no one’s going to kill me. I’m not a celebrity or anything,” I said, grabbing my soda and gulping down half of it.
“Just call me when you’re done. I’ll come pick you up,” Tasha replied before hanging up.
I tossed my phone onto the couch, picked up the popcorn, and continued munching quietly. But suddenly, the music cut off, and the room fell silent. I froze, turning around slowly, only to find three men dressed in black standing in the doorway.
“How did you get in?” I asked, my hand instinctively reaching for the emergency button under my chair.
“That won’t be necessary,” one of the men said before i could hit the emergency button, his tone calm but firm. “We contacted you before coming. We knocked, but you seemed... preoccupied, so we let ourselves in.”
I exhaled slowly, forcing a smile. “Oh, sorry about that. Please, have a seat.” I stood, trying to collect myself.
“You said you’d be coming at 9:00 p.m. I wasn’t expecting you so soon…”
“Can you get the job done in 20 minutes? We don’t have time to waste,” the man who seemed to be the leader cut me off, his tone sharp.
“Twenty minutes?” I forced a nervous laugh. “That’s plenty of time. I could get it done in less than 10.”
“I’ve heard you’re not only the best underground hacker, but you’re also great at covering your tracks—leaving no evidence. Is that true?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said, trying to sound confident. “What exactly do you need done? I can hack security cameras, open vaults, install spyware—whatever you need.”
“We want you to hack into this account and transfer everything in it,” the man said, sliding a piece of paper across the table.
I glanced at the paper, the details blurring as I hesitated. Hacking into bank accounts wasn’t my style. I avoided monetary fraud at all costs. But after Josh dumped me and left me broke, I needed cash. And fast. Rent wasn’t going to pay itself, and I didn’t want to keep depending on Tasha.
“ ‘Kai Ale…ssandro’? Is this the name of the account holder?” I asked, squinting at the paper.
“Yes, Kai Alessandro,” the man confirmed.
My heart skipped a beat. Kai Alessandro. I knew that name all too well. He was the leader of one of the biggest Italian mafia groups—the Alessandro family. His reputation was legendary, and not in a good way. Ruthless, merciless, infamous for his revenge tactics. I’d heard the stories, seen the headlines. He wasn’t just any mafia boss; he was the mafia boss. And he had a reputation for making people disappear in the most painful ways.
If this was his account, hacking it would be signing my own death warrant.
“Wait, is this the infamous Kai Alessandro? The one from the Alessandro family?” I asked, my voice shaky as I started typing on my laptop.
“Yes,” the man answered casually, like it was no big deal.
My hands froze. Fear surged through me. “I think you’ll need to find another hacker,” I said, tossing the paper aside and closing my laptop. There was no way I was touching this.
“Five hundred million dollars. If you get it out, you get five percent,” the man whispered, leaning in.
The offer was tempting—more than I could ever dream of. But no amount of money was worth dying for. Not even five percent of five hundred million.
“I’m serious. You need to find someone else. I’m not doing it,” I said, standing up to leave.
But before I could move, I felt something cold press against my neck. A knife.
“Sit,” the man ordered, the blade digging slightly into my skin.
I gulped hard, my body trembling as I sank back into the chair. “Turn on your laptop and start the job. Don’t try anything stupid,” he growled, his voice low and threatening.
With shaky hands, I reopened my laptop, my fingers clumsy as I began typing in the account details. In less than ten minutes, I broke through the security barriers, transferring every last cent into the separate account they’d provided.
Each click of the keyboard felt like a countdown to my own destruction.
“I’m done. You can send the money to the account details on the screen,” I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. I knew the truth—I was living on borrowed time. These men wouldn’t let me walk away from this, not after what I just did. But some small, desperate part of me still clung to the hope that maybe I’d get paid, use the money to live what little life I had left to the fullest.
The leader smirked, his eyes cold as he checked the balance. “Clean up the mess. If Kai tracks you down, he’ll have your head,” he warned, his voice dripping with dark amusement.
My fingers moved automatically, clearing traces of the transfer, erasing digital footprints like I had done countless times before. But this time was different. This time, the weight of my actions hung heavy over me. I wasn’t just erasing data—I was erasing the only chance I had at survival.
As I worked, one of the men stepped closer to the leader, whispering something, but his words cut through the air loud and clear.
“Boss, are we going to let her live? She’s useless now,” he muttered.
A cold wave of fear washed over me, making every hair on my neck stand on end. I froze, barely daring to breathe as I waited for the leader’s response.
“Keeping her alive would be one of the biggest mistakes we’ll be making,” he replied calmly.
My heart pounded in my chest, the finality of his words sinking in. I’d known this was coming, but hearing it—hearing him decide my fate so casually—made it all too real.
I swallowed hard, trying to think of something—anything—that might save me. But the silence that followed was suffocating, and I could feel the walls closing in, the cold reality of death inching closer with every second.