The Life: Sacrifice (The Life 3)

“You’re back, Nemesis. You had a good rest, I hope.” I smiled as I typed my response.

“Hey, Memnon, I did, yes. I didn’t get a chance to see the result of our last job; any word yet?”

“He’s done; it’s all over the news, though the world has yet to learn of our part in his downfall.” That means a job well done. The world only hears of us when we want them to.

“How did the competition go? You aced it, I bet.” It took me a second to recall what he was referring to. I’d spent so much time dealing with Gianna that I’d all but forgotten life before her.

“Level ten grandmaster.”

“Whoa, that’s awesome. Did you celebrate?” I would’ve had some girl with entrapping eyes not snared me.

“Sort of!” Becoming one of the world’s only martial artists to make it to that level in modern times should be something noteworthy, especially for someone my age; for me, it was just something I did to pass the time. It’s the one thing I did for myself, the one selfish need I had to fulfill.

I changed the subject since talking about myself has never been high on my list of things I like to do. We shot the breeze for a while playing catchup, and it felt good to be talking to someone who knew more about me than most without knowing who the hell I was.

Funny enough, this is the only place I feel free. When I’m behind the screen doing what I do best, destroying the lives of men like Ricci who think they can hide behind their wealth. Men who show the world one face while hiding behind a mask of deceit.

Each time I help bring down one of these assholes, I’m just sharpening my teeth for the final showdown. I could easily have finished Ricci off with the keyboard a long time ago, but that’s too easy for the likes of him. This one is personal, so I want to look into his eyes when I administer the final blow.

“Any luck yet on your thing?” I’m always brought up short when he asks me that. Once, a long time ago, in a moment of weakness when I first started, I’d let slip some of my story. Not much, and I was too young at the time for anyone to take me seriously. But Memnon was the one on the other side of the screen that day, and occasionally, he’d bring it up. I guess he’d seen through the bullshit I’d tried to play it off as to the seriousness behind my words. It’s been years, and he still remembers. It freaks me out that he does.

“Some yes, it’s going slow.” No, it’s not, but we’re ANONYMOUS for a reason. Though we’ve never crossed the line, never hacked each other, I have no doubt that he, especially, could find me if he so desired. That’s why my computers all have special state-of-the-art bells and whistles attached to keep people like myself from getting in. On the other hand, I could probably find him with much effort if I chose, but why bother?

It’s enough that he’s a friend online, someone who’d helped me hone my skills over the years and has been an ear to bend when needed. We didn’t stay long; we just had a brief discussion about the group’s next target before logging off.

I stood and stretched before heading for the door to go in search of her. I miss her! That’s been happening a lot lately, another phenomenon that I’m not used to. It’s easy to tell myself that I can walk away, but at times like this, when I feel that human connection with this one girl, I can’t imagine how.

It’s only been a few hours, but already I feel like I’m missing a limb. Maybe I’d gone too far, taken too much, and I find myself in that place of self-doubt again as I opened the door to the girls’ room, where they were laughing and chattering away, full of excitement.

“Are you two done with her? Come, Gianna, let’s go see your dad before we leave.”

“The flight’s in two hours; you don’t have time.”

“He lives ten minutes away, Anna, not Jupiter. We won’t be long.” I took Gianna’s hand in mine and led her from the room.

“I didn’t know we were going to see my dad.”

“You don’t want to?”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but I guess since I’m going out of the country, I should tell him.” Of course, there’s that. I just smiled and let her carry on, believing that that was the reason for our visit.

Felix wasn’t the only one in the Fontane residence having a meltdown; Victoria had been breaking shit since she drove off the night before. I’m going to make sure her crazy goes off the charts, and she escalates by the time her mother is let out of jail. I have to time everything perfectly so that by the time we head to Paris in a few weeks, this will all be over.