“Oh, my my my. A man. I am intrigued!”

Her obnoxious laugh follows me out as I weave a path toward the exit.

They—whoever they are—say blondes have more fun. Well, I’m about to test that theory on one revenge scheme for Ericson Daverns.

* * *

Hacking is a learned skill that anyone with half a brain and the basic understanding of computer networks can acquire.

Computers came naturally to me. I remember the couple of girlfriends my mother would always invite over in the hopes I’d “make a connection”. These girls often complained about our comp classes, not understanding the language.

From the first time I laid my little fingers to the keys, I felt that connection I could never obtain with another person. I spoke the language of the cold, hard object that computed information with no emotion to hinder its thought process.

We were kindred.

My teenage years were spent diving the dark web and uncovering every shady corner of the Internet. From a solitary computer, one can do almost anything. Learn anything. Be anyone, find anyone.

The limitless possibilities of a computer’s reach and the anonymity it provides is how I became involved in my field of work to begin with. Police and even the government are still a step behind hackers and people who are governed solely by their greed.

In my upstairs loft, I seat myself behind my metal desk and shake out the loose waves of my freshly highlighted hair before I pull open my MacBook. Maybe it’s just the newness, the mind aware that a drastic change has been made, but my head feels lighter. I actually feel more buoyant.

Lyric must either fear Rochelle or worship her—most likely both—because she canceled her morning appointment to squeeze me in, and according to a quick search of Lyric, she’s one of the most sought-after stylists in New York.

I rolled into Lucy’s office job two hours late, but my boss never gives me too much grief because I make him a ludicrous amount of money. Besides, thanks to my new look, I doubt he even recognized me for the better part of the day.

When Lyric’s task to transform me into another person was complete, I admit, I barely recognized myself in the mirror. The platinum highlights mixed with caramel lowlights brought out the green in my eyes and the dark slash of my eyebrows, making my eyes a striking feature.

With the right clothes, revealing in strategic places, Ericson should become an easy mark. And to help solidify that endeavor, I log in to my ghost email account and spam him with the most salacious and sexually explicit content.

I hacked all three of his email accounts during the vetting period. He has one email for work, one for VIP clients, and one personal.