Page 29 of Vicious Games

“Fuck. Is this for real?” I ask, grabbing the laptop.

“It’s not finished yet, but I’m so close I can taste it.”

I stare at the code, my body humming with excitement as the numbers dance in my head.

“Give me a couple more days, and it’ll be done,” he says. “Then I just need you to hack the mainframe of the largest banks in America and sneak in your Trojan horse and release the virus.”

“Not a problem.” I grin, ear to ear.

I’ve been hacking computer systems since I was twelve. This will be child’s play—even if it is ambitious.

The plan is simple. A fraction of a cent skimmed from a bank on every foreign transaction—Merrill Lynch, Morgan Stanley, take your pick. Just a thousandth of a cent per exchange. Untraceable. Undetectable.

And if someonedoesnotice? They’ll chalk it up to a system glitch. Currency conversions fluctuate daily—who’s going to question a few missing decimals?

They’ll never be able to trace the IPs.

They’ll never see the attack coming.

And if by some fluke someone does pick up on the untraceable virus, we’ll already be swimming in millions.

It’s fuckingbeautiful.

A crime that pays endlessly, without a single drop of blood being spilled. No bodies. No risks. Just a seamless siphoning of money, flowing right into our hands.

See?

You don’t have to bust heads to make money for the Outfit.

Just give Enzo and me a computer, and we’ll be making everyfamigliain the syndicate richer beyond their wildest dreams.

“You know we have to talk to our father first,” I say, still eyeing the gorgeous code. “We need his green light.”

“Already two steps ahead of you. I ran it by Gio last night, and he promised to back us up when the time comes. Dominic won’t care either way since he’s never been money-driven, butthe boss?” Enzo smiles assuredly. “There’s no way he won’t love this. Once he has proof of what we can bring to the table, he won’t be able to deny us theomertà.”

“I’m not so sure. He looked pretty pissed at me yesterday.”

“That’s because you dropped the ball,” Enzo reprimands. “I told you that you should’ve come to the soup kitchen with me last year. Butnooo,you had to go play with fire.”

“If I ever start doing what’s expected of me, put a bullet in my head,” I smirk. “I like playing on the edge.”

“If you say so.” He pulls a jay from his pocket and lights up right there in the chapel.

Say what you will about my brother, but he’s just as rebellious as I am. Maybe even more. He just hides it better.

“Gimme a hit.” I reach for the joint. “Gonna need to be in a better mood for what I have to do next.”

Enzo chuckles but passes it over. I take three slow drags, letting the smoke curl in my lungs, the tension in my body easing as I swat away any thought of Frankie and her incessant mouth.

We stay there for a while, passing the jay back and forth, going over the code, and letting the rest of the world fade away.

By the time I take the last drag, I’m relaxed—way more prepared to deal with Frankie for the next hour or two.

“Gotta go. The she-devil awaits,” I tell my twin, standing up. “You coming?”

“Nah,” Enzo mutters, eyes closed, arms stretched behind his head on the pew. “I’m going to hang back and enjoy the silence.”

“Suit yourself. See ya at home.”

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