Identity Fraud Maze 3 Novels & Stories

Almost afraid. He turned his laptop toward me. A grainy still, sharpened and zoomed. A face caught mid-turn, checking the hallway before bolting. It was Clover. Not a stranger hired by some nameless enemy. My best friend, standing in my own office at midnight with an electronic descrambler pressed to my safe. "That's not possible," I said, my voice sounding like it belonged to someone else. "She doesn't even have clearance for this floor after hours." "She used someone else's badge," Killian said. "There's more."

A shove into the path of a delivery cart. Liana lost the child. With it, she lost her last scrap of value to Marcus’s status-obsessed family. They cast her out into the streets for good. And Marcus, freed from that particular chain, turned his single-minded obsession back to the only target left. Me. He found me two nights later, as Kaelan and I returned from a twilight walk in the Citadel’s crypt gardens.

Third POV Cook County Jail smelled of bleach, despair, and old metal. Mark Skyland, twenty-two years old, once heir to half of Chicago’s skyline, sat chained to a steel table in a windowless room, orange jumpsuit hanging loose on his frame. The bruises from the arrest were already yellowing, but the real damage was deeper. He had run for three days after Mallory’s body was found: fake IDs, burner phones, cash stuffed in a gym bag. They caught him anyway.

Which meant— for the first time— I wasn't merely an observer. I was an unresolved variable. Lucas smiled faintly. “You broke it.” I shook my head. “No.” I looked at the screen. “I found the edge.” My father stepped closer. “What edge?” “The one thing it can't predict.” He waited. I looked at all three men. “Who I believe myself to be.” The screen went black. For several seconds, nothing happened. Then a final message appeared. IDENTITY UNRESOLVED. And beneath it: PHASE THREE TERMINATED.

If Mia got caught, she'd be facing more than the fifteen years of prison time she had evaded before. "She grew up here. She never really became a resident abroad. To put it bluntly, she's still a rat from the sewers, and rats always find their way back when they want to prove themselves," Jack said. "You mean she's living off the grid?" Jessie asked with a chuckle. "Something like that. She can fake her identity, but once someone digs deeper, those fake papers won't hold up. Besides, let's be real, nowhere out there beats home." Jack smiled.

And tonight, I was hungry. I spent the afternoon in my old small apartment, now TK base, the blinds half-drawn, laptop glowing in the dim light. Tomas had already delivered Raven and MJ’s data—a neat folder full of screenshots, email threads, schedules, and even their “secret” friend groups. I stared at their smiling faces on my screen, my stomach tightening with the same old burn. The first step was identity. I needed someone that didn’t exist, yet looked too perfect to ignore. Her name became Arielle Kane.

I wondered, panting heavily as I dropped my legs on the floor, winching when my bare feet met the cold floor. I grabbed my laptop, my fingers dancing crazily as I typed in my name but there was nothing, as if I never existed. Jayce Beckett was no longer registered on the system. "What?" I whispered, my eyes widened as I lazily typed in my fake name and felt my pulse quickened when I found my fake information on the internet, replacing my real identity. Jayce Beckett or anything that could lead to my life as a federal agent had been wiped out of the internet, replaced with this fake identity and things that shouldn't really interest my targets.

"For the past hour, my cybersecurity team has been mapping every device you own, every cloud account, every server where you might have stored compromising material." "That's impossible—" "Damien Kross," Grayson continued as if he hadn't spoken, "also known as David Kane, also known as Marcus Stone. Three identities, two dead Social Security numbers, and a very interesting criminal history spanning multiple states." Luna watched Damien's face go white. "Identity theft, fraud, stalking, violation of restraining orders issued by three different women." Grayson's voice was clinical, precise. "Should I continue?" "You can't prove—" "I don't need to prove anything." Grayson leaned forward. "I jus

But Natash never tires of it. However, now I have to succumb to this I*******m thing. To deal with this situation, I spent half a day sitting in front of the computer, finally registered for an I*******m account, and then added a friend who could provide fake IDs. When he asked me what documents I needed, I simply replied, "ID card," and then there was silence. After a moment, the other side replied, "We don't provide ID cards." I quickly asked, "Why? I heard you provide all kinds of documents." Then I added, "Money is not a problem."

Elion looked at Cale. "It says you're a ghost, Cale. 'Subject appears to have no digital or paper footprint prior to June 2024. Possible alias. Recommended action: Report to authorities for identity fraud.'" Cale didn't flinch. "It is accurate." "Accurate? Cale, he's going to turn you in! Identity fraud is a federal crime!" "I haven't committed fraud," Cale said calmly. "I just... haven't participated in the bureaucracy." "Try explaining that to the FBI!"