Page 19 of Sinister Intentions

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.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Iwiped the sweat from my brow, my chest heaving from the intense grappling session I just finished in Domenico Rossi’s—aka my best and only friend’s—new gym.

Across from me, Dom did the same, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each labored breath. We’d been best friends for as long as I could remember and training partners since we both took up wrestling in boarding school. After all these years, he could push me to my limits and challenge me like nobody else.

“Alright, spill it,” he said and fixed me with that penetrating gaze of his. “What’s got your lace panties in a twist?”

I waggled my eyebrows. “I left my lace panties at home.”

He raised a single eyebrow. “Just tell me, what’s eating at you?” Dom saw right through me—always had, ever since that day when I got back to school after my mother’s funeral. As soon as I stepped into our shared dorm room, he took one good look at me before instigating a fight.

A fight I desperately needed to get out all of my pent-up anger, frustration, and pain.

He saw right through me then.

But I’d become worlds better at hiding my true feelings.

With a measured, deliberately relaxed move, I leaned back on my hands. “Why would you think something’s eating at me?”

He cocked his head. “Because your ass is tighter than usual.” He gave me a flirty wink, then turned serious again. “I know you. So don’t even try to pretend with me.”

I considered deflecting, but I knew better than to try and bullshit Dom. I sighed. Dom was the one person I trusted with my life—more than anyone in our operation—even more than I trusted my brothers.

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