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“The Salvini Family. Italian Mafia out of New York. They’re big into online gambling. Cocky bastards—again stupidly careless with their security.” She shook her head. “Such easy money.”
I stared at her for a whole five seconds. “You’re playing with fire.”
She turned her head and looked at me. “Life is too short not to.” Then she focused back on the blueprints she was studying.
I shook my head. I had a bad feeling about this. Hacking was one thing. Messing with organized crime families, a whole other dimension.
She definitely sounded reckless, borderline self-destructive.
Needed an intervention.
“Bingo,” she said and did a 180 with my chair before she stopped and looked at me. “Though you might not like your way out.”
I stared at her and waited for an explanation.
“Do you have a veil along with that dress?” Jemma asked, nodding at the dress that lay crumbled and forgotten on the floor.
I nodded.
“That’s good. Let me show you the best way out and then stuff myself in that dress.”
“What?”
“A good, old switcheroo. When they realize it’s me in that dress, you’re already gone.”
I smiled. This was why I loved my cousins to death. She was willing to take the heat for me. And I could be out of here before anyone would know. If I let her.
“Tell me your plan, then we’ll decide.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
My hands trembled as Jemma and I huddled in front of the screen.
“Alright, the backup system is disabled. Once I hack into the electricity provider and set up the planned shutdown, you’ll have exactly ten minutes to get to that door before the power comes back on,” Jemma said, her fingers rapidly tapping away at her laptop.
“Right,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady. “While you’re distracting Declan and the other guards by pretending to be me, I’ll sneak down to the basement.”
Jemma grabbed my hands, her eyes burning with determination. “You only have ten minutes. You need to get down there as fast as you can, manually unlock the hidden door, and get out.”
“Easy.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat. My heart pounded, a mix of fear and hope churning in my stomach.
“Exactly.” Jemma flashed me a confident grin as she zipped up her bag. “Now, let’s get ready.”
While Jemma put on my wedding dress, I quickly stuffed my backpack with some clothes, cash, and the gun—just in case. The weight of the bag felt like a promise; one way or another, I was getting out of here tonight.
I zipped her up—which shouldn’t have been an easy feat since Jemma had always been much taller and stronger than me. She must’ve lost an alarming amount of weight.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked her again, watching her make a mess of putting on the veil backward.
I took over, adjusting the veil while she held her wig in place.
“Trust me, Fee. Men are all the same. If they don’t want to fuck you, they barely look at you. They won’t know the difference.”
She winked at me before stepping in front of the full-length mirror.
When had she become so cynical? And was she right? Alex had always looked at me. From the first moment onwards, I was under his scrutiny. As if he really saw me. All of me. Was it because he wanted to fuck me?
Or was it just the way he was? Fuck. No time to think about him now.
