Chapter 2 - The Digital Prison Break
The room was silent, save for the hum of the climate control. I sat on the edge of the velvet chaise longue, the grease from the rag still drying on my collar. I opened my laptop, bypassed the guest network with a pre-configured VPN, and logged into the Blackwood estate’s smart-home hub.
Derek thought the house was his fortress. He didn't realize that when he had asked me to "manage" the household budget, he had essentially handed me the digital keys to every lock, camera, and bank account in the empire.
I didn't just unlock the bedroom door. I disabled the estate’s entire security perimeter. I cut the feed to the gate cameras, looped the footage of the empty driveway, and initiated an automated transfer of the household accounts into a holding escrow.
I wasn't just escaping; I was cauterizing the wound.
I heard the heavy, confident footsteps of Derek approaching the bedroom. He was probably coming to "discipline" me, his favorite buzzword for when I didn't act like a doll.
"Chloe," he called through the door, his voice dripping with that practiced, dangerous sweetness. "Are you ready to apologize yet? Or do we need to have a longer conversation about your place here?"
I stood up, threw my backpack over my shoulder, and walked to the door. I didn't unlock it with the handle. I used the remote override on my phone. The bolt slid back with a mechanical thrum.
Derek stood there, a glass of bourbon in his hand, a smirk on his lips. He froze as I stepped out, not in my dress, but in a pair of sturdy black jeans and a trench coat.
"I'm done with the conversation, Derek," I said. My voice was as cold as the Arctic.
He frowned, his eyes narrowing. "Where do you think you're going? You're a Blackwood now. You don't leave this house unless I say so."
"The house is no longer in your name, Derek," I whispered, walking past him. "Check your accounts."
As I descended the stairs, his phone started ringing. Then, a second later, the house alarm began to pulse with a low, rhythmic warning—the sound of a system being reset to factory defaults.
I walked out the front door, into the crisp, morning air, and toward the gate. Brenda was standing by the fountain, her phone to her ear. She looked up, her expression shifting from confusion to blind rage.
"Stop her!" she screamed to the two security guards standing at the gate.
May you like
The guards looked at each other, then at their tablets, which were now flashing red. They looked at me, then at the house, and then, with a collective shrug, they stepped aside.
They knew where the money was coming from. And it wasn't from Derek.
