Emilia Morokov
★ A professional hacker who is determined to find out about her dark past.
However everything changes when her father is in need of help because of various attacks from another Mafia and she needs to help him.
But she doesn't know tha...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I heard the soft click of the door closing as Emilia left, leaving me in my office, alone.
Her entrance couldn't left but let me feel a soft glimmer of happiness in this shitty situation.
Not even once in my life, have I liked reporters.
Those fuckers could say something that is literally to laugh for and yet, if the article is read by people it quickly becomes a 'hot topic'.
What they were lacking, was defeat. They created a game of hide and seek, with us being the seeker and then being the hider. Let them think they won.
Let them think that they won the war when in reality they didn't even win the battle.
Now, it's time for us to play our pawn.
Checkmate.
Shortly after her departure, Oliver came back and announced that it was settled. He arranged for a yatch party. Now, was a yatch party nessecary? Shouldn't I have done something smaller?
Possibly.
Was a a billionaire? Fuck yes.
Reaching out, I grab the papers Oliver had left for me, reminding me once again of the conversation that was going on before Emilia walked in here.
Oliver found another hint about the letters. The last time he had informed me was about the fact that they found another pair of fingerprints.
The note -once it was found on the scene- was understandably burnt and tore but one thing was visible, two letters to he exact.
M-O
Now what that was, I didn't know but the man who has set of the C4 on our hideout had accidentally left it there. Now, combined with the fact that there was a second fingerprint it meant that it might belong to the mysterious 'MO' person or whatever that is.
I had suspected it could mean a name and surname or more specifically the initials of those. However, it could also mean some kind of organisation.
In present time, Oliver informed me that we did not unfortunately get a match with anything on the database.
Fanculo a tutti
Oliver did say that they would try again and I urged him to do so. Before Emilia walked inside, I also told him to check everyone's finger prints on the estate and try to find a match. He said that it would take some time but he would.
I ran a hand through my hair before pushing myself up and pouring myself a glass of whiskey as my gaze flickered on the frame again.
A sigh escaped my lips as my fingers traced over the woman's figure. My mother's figure.
It had been sometime since I admitted her role in my 'family' (or whatever that was). Shit, Emilia is making me softer.
Then again, I felt a weight lift of ky shouders as I admitted it to myself. As much as I consistently wished she was here, it wouldn't happen. But at least, I had her memory to hold into.
