Allison ended the call and leaned back, finally wrapping up loose ends at the villa. Her hand cradled her head as she prepared for a short break, when her phone lit up with a new message. She unlocked it to see a message from Emanuel Welsh: “Allison, how am I going to survive without you? When will you come back to Athton to visit me?” A crying cat emoji followed, completing his dramatic plea.
A smile spread across Allison's face. Keanu was always serious and stoic, while Emanuel possessed the energy of someone half his age. He was always up-to-date on the latest fashions and trends; whatever young people adored, Emanuel embraced without hesitation.
Before Allison could respond, her phone vibrated wildly as Emanuel called.
“Allison! You’ve abandoned this poor old man, rotting away in a quiet, lonely town? It’s been three years, and you always dodge my invitations with your ‘busy, busy, busy’ excuses! I’ve been wasting away! You don’t even know how many people are taking advantage of me now that you’re not around to keep them in line!”
Allison instinctively moved the phone from her ear, letting Emanuel’s rant reach its crescendo before returning it. What if people were taking advantage of him? Emanuel, known for his cunning, wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. If anyone took advantage of others, it was him.
But despite his complaints, Emanuel was like a naughty child: he loved jokes and attention.
“Come on, Emanuel, who dares mess with you? Don't they know you have a legion of students and apprentices worldwide? They'd be petrified imagining someone coming after them with a carving knife!”
Emanuel snorted, more irritated than annoyed. “You don’t understand. I’m getting older. In my day, I could work non-stop for days. Now my hands are stiff, and every pot, every sculpture…it feels like I’m repeating myself. There’s no emotion, no spark. The same thing over and over again.”
Art wasn't just about talent; it was about inspiration. And that spark can be dulled by the hustle and bustle of life. Still, Allison knew Emanuel well enough to sense that wasn't the root of his restlessness. He quickly changed the subject.
“Plus, there’s this guy. He won’t leave me alone; he keeps showing up like a stray cat I can’t get rid of. I swear I’ve tried everything!”
Allison raised an eyebrow. If Emanuel hadn't kicked him out yet, he probably enjoyed the company, even if he’d never admit it.
Now that she no longer dealt with Colton's household chores and hadn't seen Emanuel in a while, Allison glanced at her phone and quickly calculated. “Okay, I’ll come visit you on Saturday.”
Emanuel's mood changed instantly. “Really? Don’t kid me, Allison. You’ve stood me up before.”
“I’ll be there. There’s no turning back.”
After further reassurance, he ended the call.
As she drove home, her thoughts swirled. Although Rebecca had been generous in offering her a place to stay, Allison knew she couldn't depend on her forever. Rebecca already had enough on her plate, and Allison's extended stay would only add to her burden. The four million and the villa Colton had given her were a drop in the ocean compared to her real needs; they barely covered the costs of maintaining her hacker network. Her real assets—funds and properties distributed by Vrining—had been frozen since she'd left that life. She'd been ready to leave it all behind when she married Colton, to settle into a simpler life. But life rarely goes as planned. Now, she needed to unlock those frozen assets.
When Allison arrived at Rebecca's house, she went to her private room. Closing the door, she quickly went to the bookshelf and pressed a hidden button. Four hidden screens emerged from the walls, casting a soft blue glow. With precision, Allison navigated to a hidden website and initiated commands to regain access to her secure account. Her fingers moved quickly, entering passwords and executing lines of code. Screens filled with data streams, and the code flowed seamlessly as she unlocked hidden reservations. IDs were changed, identities verified, and secure pages accessed—all in the blink of an eye.
In the dimly lit room, bathed in the cold glow of the screens, Allison's face reflected the same coldness. Her expression was focused, distant, and devoid of emotion.