Page 1 of Alessio DeLuca

One

Prologue

Maty

I’ve always been a fighter. When you grow up like I did, you don’t have a choice. It’s either fight or be crushed under the weight of a world that doesn’t give a shit about you.

I never knew my parents. They dumped me at a fire station when I was just a baby, and I’ve been on my own ever since. The foster system was a fucking joke - I bounced from home to home, never staying in one place long enough to unpack my bags. The only constant in my life was the knowledge that I couldn’t rely on anyone but myself.

But I had one thing going for me: I was smart. Freakishly so. By the time I was ten, I could take apart a computer and put it back together with my eyes closed. By twelve, I was hacking into school records to change my grades, just cause I could.

It wasn’t long before I realized my skills could be put to better use than just messing around. I started hanging out on hacker forums, learning from the best.

It was a rush, a high like nothing I’d ever experienced. The thrill of the hack, the satisfaction of watching the money pour into untraceable offshore accounts. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was part of something bigger, like I had a purpose.

But as the jobs got more important and the stakes got higher, I started to get restless. I wanted more than just a cut of the profits and a pat on the back. I wanted to use my skills for something bigger.

That’s when I came up with the idea to hit the DeLucas. They were the biggest, baddest crime family in the world, with their hands in everything from drug trafficking to money laundering. Taking from them would be the ultimate score.

I spent months planning, studying their systems and exploiting every weakness I could find. And when the big night finally came, I was ready. Or so I thought…

* * *

The salty sea breeze whips through my curls as I make my way down Cannery Row, the sound of seagulls mixing with the distant bark of sea lions. The air is cool and damp, a welcome change from the stuffiness of the group home where I’ve spent the last few years of my life.

I hitch my backpack higher on my shoulder, the weight of my meager possessions a familiar burden. It’s not much, just a few changes of clothes, a toothbrush, and my most prized possession - a battered laptop I’ve managed to keep hidden from my foster parents and social workers.

I turn down a narrow side street, the colorful buildings of the wharf giving way to the more run-down neighborhoods of DelMonte’s underbelly. This is my world. The place where street kids, runaways and forgotten ones carve out a life for themselves in the shadows.

I come to a stop in front of a door, its paint peeling and hinges rusted. It just looks like another abandoned building in a bad neighborhood. But I know better.

I raise my fist and knock, the sound echoing through the empty street. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. Then, the door cracks open, a sliver of light spilling on the cracked pavement.

This is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for, the chance to finally prove to the world I’m more than just another abandoned kid.

A pair of wary eyes peer at me from inside.

“What do you want?” a gruff voice asks, his words laced with suspicion.

I swallow hard, my throat dry. “I’m here to see Ghost,” I say, my voice wavering slightly.

His eyes narrow, and I can feel the weight of his gaze boring into me. “Ghost doesn’t see just anyone,” the voice says, a hint of a sneer in his tone.

I lift my chin with defiance. “I’m Thunder,” I say, revealing my nickname on the dark web. Everyone in our world knows me and my reputation.

There’s a moment of silence, and I can feel my heart hammering against my ribs. Then, the door swings open, revealing a skinny dude with a shaved head and a tattoo snaking up the side of his neck.

“You better not be wasting our time,” he growls, stepping aside to let me pass.

I nod, a thrill of excitement rushing through me as I step over the threshold and into the dimly lit room. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and the hum of CP units, and I can feel all eyes on me as I make my way to the center of the room.

Ghost is lounging in a battered office chair with his feet propped up on a desk.

“So,” he says, “You’re the kid who thinks she can hack the DeLucas.”

I nod, my heart in my throat. “I know I can,” I reply. “I’ve been inside their systems for months, looking for a way in. And I found one.”

Ghost raises an eyebrow. “That so? What’s in it for us?”

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