Bought By The Devil In Suit
But that isn’t the truth.
By the time I retreat to my bedroom, the sun has dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the estate. My sanctuary awaits—hidden behind a false wall, my room transformed into a high-tech command center. Here, I’m not Lorenzo’s daughter. I’m not anyone’s pawn. Here, I’m Cipher.
Lines of code dance across the screens, encrypted networks connecting me to the underworld’s elite. My website—a black-market hub for the kind of people who need information and are willing to pay for it—pings with new requests.