Page 123 of Push My Buttons
Threemonthshavepassedsince the night my stalker died.
It's strange how quickly life can settle into a new normal. The police investigation into Levi's murder went cold within weeks—no fingerprints, no witnesses, no evidence pointing to any suspect. Detective Rivera still gives me skeptical looks whenever our paths cross, but even she had to admit they had nothing concrete to pursue.
When they searched Levi's apartment, what they found chilled me to my core. Every wall was covered with photographs of me—candid shots from years ago, recent ones from outside the café, even screenshots from my streams. A meticulous chronicle of my life through his obsessive lens.
But the photographs weren't the worst part. Hidden in a locked room, they discovered trophies—personal items taken from women who had gone missing over the years. Women who looked like me. Women whose cases had gone unsolved until now.
Agent Voss visited me not long after the party, her questions pointed and relentless. There was an undertone of rage in her voice when she asked about Levi, a personal edge that made me wonder about her connection to the case.
"Did you see who killed him?" she asked for the third time, her pen poised over her notebook.
"No," I repeated, the lie coming easily now. "It was dark, and everything happened so quickly."
Her eyes narrowed, disbelief evident in her expression. "You understand that withholding information in a federal investigation is a crime, Miss Cain."
"I'm telling you what I know," I insisted, meeting her gaze steadily.
When I asked about my brother, her look turned glacial. "We're here to discuss Levi Matthews, not other matters," she said, shutting down that line of conversation completely.
She left with a warning that we would speak again, but so far, she hasn't returned. I sometimes wonder about her relationship with my brother.
After the launch party drama, I worried that the scandal would overshadow the Wasteland Chronicles expansion, derailing Jace and Theo's plans for independence. But once again, Theo was right—the publicity only fueled interest. Sales broke records in the first week, and the gaming press couldn't get enough of the "cursed" launch party where a marketing executive was murdered.
The success gave Jace and Theo the financial cushion they needed to leave Nexus Gaming and start their own company. They called it Silent Bird Games—a nod to both my online persona and my real name that only the three of us would truly understand. What was once my masks have now become our shared banner.
Their first act as independent business owners was buying the café Grounded when the owners put it on the market. After all, who wants to own the scene of a grisly murder? Well, except maybe us. They're renovating it now, planning to turn the upstairs into an office space for the new company while keeping the café running on the ground floor.
Maya now manages the place, though she's hired more staff so she can focus on her true passion—makeup artistry. The dramatic look she created for me at the launch party caught the attention of several people in the industry, and she's been booking freelance gigs ever since.
As for me, I finally gave up my apartment. We all moved into Theo's place—because who doesn't love the luxury of a concierge who will buy hair extensions for you late at night without question? The three of us have fallen into a comfortable rhythm, our lives intertwining so completely it's hard to remember a time when we were separate.
But that doesn't mean I gave up camming. If anything, I've embraced it more fully, no longer seeing it as just a necessary source of income but as something I genuinely enjoy. A space where I have complete control, where I can be bold in ways I never could before.
Lighting a candle, I adjust its position to cast the perfect glow across my workspace. The lighting is crucial—soft enough to be flattering but bright enough to highlight the details my subscribers pay to see.
I adjust my mask, the jewels catching the light as I turn my head from side to side. The silky strands of the black wig slide between my fingers as I trail them down over my shoulders, continuing the path across the lace of my lingerie.
With everything perfectly arranged, I hit the stream button on my laptop. Almost immediately, the chat begins to fill with greetings and comments from regular subscribers.
SilverTongue69: Looking gorgeous tonight Vanta
DarkHeart: That new lingerie is HOT
MidnightRider: Can we see a slow turn please?
I smile behind my mask, playing with the strands of my wig as I read their messages. This part always amuses me—the power dynamic so clearly in my favor despite what they might believe. But one big thing has changed now.
"Good evening, gentlemen," I purr, my voice husky and confident through the voice modulator. "I've missed you."
More comments flood in, along with the first wave of tips. I let my hands wander, tracing the curve of my waist before sliding up to cup my breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze that elicits a fresh round of appreciative messages.
ObsidianWolf has tipped $200: Show us how much you've missed us
NeedleAndVice has tipped $300: Touch yourself the way we would
I can't help but flick my eyes across the living room to where Jace and Theo are sitting on the couch, watching me with identical grins on their faces. Jace's laptop is open on his lap, and beside him, Theo has his phone out.
This has become our favorite game—me performing for an audience of strangers while they watch from just beyond the camera's view, participating as anonymous users among the crowd. The thrill of our shared secret never gets old.
