Page 5 of Hacked For Love
I spent the first day shuffling whoever I could from the burned building into vacancies in my buildings, getting victim assistance and insurance for everyone I could, trying to keep the guilt and horror at bay with action. These people needed help, and I was going to be there forthem.
Then I found out about thedeaths.
I should have just given that fucker what he was asking and taken oversooner.
I’ve been a wreck since then. I’ve been working myself to the bone—too much work, too little rest, food, or time away from the keyboard. I know I’ve gotten obsessive and that I’m hurting myself. But I can’tstop.
That was the state I was in when I finally set the Fistful of Bitcoins heist in motion before dawn today. Choosing to do it at that moment probably wasn’t my best decision either. I was way too unfocused andemotional.
I still feel that way now, even after running errands for this mission all day. But when I started, I was downrightdistraught.
I definitely wasn’t thinking of the danger to me. I’m still not. But as I doze off in my chair in front of my main computer screen, I can’t shake a nagging worry that I might have created more problems than solutions with myheist.
It’s crazy. I’ve spent weeks covering every angle on this plan, thinking through every weakness—but my gut doesn’t know that. My instincts are used to a world where unfair horror, tragedy, and betrayal can drop on your head at any moment. I don’t trust thissuccess.
I’ve already started buying some necessities for a few of the people on my list. Time to start getting people their money and killing their debts now—before the hunt for me can even begin. I’m still hoping that any potential search for me will be futile and will lead all three men to the wrong conclusions—and to each other—instead.
If they find me, it won’t be until it’s too late. They are going to help these innocent people survive whether they want to or not. And then if I die, Idie.
First though, I need to check on how well the fund for my neighbors is doing. I log onto the donation site I set up and check—and lean back suddenly, my eyes goingwide.
What thehell?
There’s a quarter of a million dollars just chilling in the account. It was thirty thousand earlier today—impressive enough, but this is amazing. I quickly check the donor list—and end up even more shocked andconfused.
Drake Steele, $200,000, donated an hourago.
No. Fucking.Way.
A man like him can afford to drop two hundred thousand dollars on pretty much anything, just for fun. I know that both the fire and all the scandals I have unleashed on Link as punishment have been all over the news.Did it actually make Steele feelbad?
Even if it’s just a coincidence that he chose to donate to the one fund that I set up...Steele supports businesses, not people. He’s got no public record of being charitable outside of his incubators, and though those are helpful, they are largely a taxdodge.
Unless, of course, my research on him is incomplete. Flawed.Have I missedsomething?
Did he find me out that fast, and is this his way of telling me? Or does this guy have a secret life, doing the kinds of things my parents used todo?
I suddenly feel sick. Drake Steele got his start as a money launderer for “unknown interests.” He was a scumbag with all sorts of whispers about hispast.
But is he a scumbagnow? Maybe he didn’t just get better at covering his tracks, as I had assumed, but actuallychanged.If that’s true, then he’s the only billionaire I have ever seen who has managed to reform himself instead of getting more corrupt overtime.
And if that’s the case, then I may have just made him some deadly enemies that he doesn’tdeserve!
I sit back in my chair, huffing softly, my blood gone cold.Should I send him awarning?
It means giving away the scheme to one of my targets. It may even mean ruining my whole plan if he comes after me hard enough. But if he’s not the man I thought he was, then I’ll have his death on myconscience.
I have enough deaths on my consciencealready.
I set up a crawler program to quietly gather data from donation sites about Steele’s activities. If he is making a lot of donations like this, even if he’s doing it under variants of his name or one of the pseudonyms I already found, the crawler will dig themup.
Meanwhile, I can start doing my real work, praying that I can settle my mind a little with some more altruistictherapy.
I have randomized my list of needy people. I know it’s going to take me a hell of a lot of time to get everything handled, but I have a lot of money to parcel out and I need it to happen fast. I wish I had some help at this, but as with everything else, I’m workingalone.
The first name is Lois Pinoy. She’s a hospital nurse who has ended up on disability leave because of tendon issues in her arm caused by turning patients twice her size for years. Widowed mom of three. I bring up her photograph and look into the face of a petite woman in pink scrubs, smiling tiredly while standing behind her small, grinning son’swheelchair.
Her eyes are verygentle.
