Chapter 1

To save my family, I sold myself to Sarah Jenkins.

It was the only way. Their digital trail of crime was a mess of stolen data and laundered money, and the authorities were closing in. I was the only one who could clean it, but I didn't have the resources. Sarah did.

She was my ex-girlfriend. The one whose family was the first, and biggest, victim of my own family's schemes.

I walked into her penthouse office, the same one we used to dream about living in together. Now it was just cold glass and steel, towering over a city that felt like it was judging me.

She sat behind a massive black desk, not looking up from her monitor.

"You know the terms, Ethan," she said, her voice flat, without a trace of the warmth it once held for me.

"I do."

"You will be my personal assistant. You will do whatever I say, whenever I say it. In return, I will secure your family. I will erase their digital footprint, move them somewhere safe, give them new identities."

"I understand," I said, my voice barely a whisper. My freedom for their future. It was a simple, terrible transaction.

She finally looked up, and her eyes were like chips of ice.

"Good. Your service begins now."

She stood up and walked around the desk. She didn't lead me to a guest room or an office. She led me down a sterile white hallway to a door with no handle on the outside, only a keypad. She typed in a code, and a heavy metal door clicked open.

"Get in."

The room was small, filled with the hum of computer servers. Wires snaked across the floor and ceiling, and the only light came from the blinking green and amber LEDs on the racks. The air was cold, recycled, and smelled of dust and electricity.

The moment I stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind me. The sound echoed in the tight space. I turned, but Sarah was already in front of me.

Her hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back. My scalp screamed in protest. Before I could react, her other hand, balled into a fist, slammed into my stomach. The air rushed out of my lungs in a pained gasp. I doubled over, coughing.

She didn't let go of my hair. She forced my head up, making me look at her. Her face was a mask of cold fury.

"This is for my father," she hissed, and kneed me hard in the ribs.

I cried out, stumbling back against a server rack. The metal was cold against my back.

"This is for my mother," she said, her voice shaking with rage, and she slapped me across the face. My head snapped to the side, and the taste of blood filled my mouth. A warm trickle ran from the corner of my lip down my chin.

She let me go, and I slid down the server rack to the floor, clutching my stomach. I looked up at her, dizzy and confused. Blood dripped from my lip onto the pristine white floor. I didn't say a word. I didn't fight back. This was part of the price. I endured it silently.

I stayed in that server room for days. Sarah would come in periodically, sometimes with food, sometimes just to look at me. She never spoke. The silence was worse than the beating. I spent the time huddled on the floor, the constant hum of the machines a maddening lullaby. I thought about my family, hoping they were safe, hoping my sacrifice was worth it.

Then, one morning, she came in and threw a tablet at my feet. The screen was lit up.

"It's done," she said.

I scrambled to pick it up. My hands were shaking. On the screen was a news report. It detailed a massive data breach, but not the one I expected. It was about my family. Their new, fabricated digital identities had been systematically dismantled. Their offshore accounts, the ones Sarah was supposed to protect, were seized. The report mentioned them by their new names, their new locations. They were exposed. Ruined.

I looked up at her, my heart pounding in my chest. Tears welled in my eyes, hot and thick.

"Why?" I choked out, the word tearing at my throat. "You promised. You promised they'd be safe."

Sarah looked down at me, her expression unreadable. For a moment, I saw a flicker of something in her eyes, something that looked like pain, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

Her voice was as cold as the chilled air in the room.

"If it weren't for your disgusting, destructive cyber-crimes, my family wouldn't have been ruined. My parents wouldn't be dead."

She took a step closer, looming over me.

"Did you expect me to leave their digital footprint intact? To let the people who destroyed my world get away with it?"

Tears streamed down my face now, mixing with the dried blood on my chin. My sacrifice meant nothing. I had delivered them right into her hands.

"Ethan," she said, her voice dropping to a near whisper, a sound more terrifying than her shouting. "Your suffering has just begun."

She knelt down, her face inches from mine.

"Their debts, you will repay for a lifetime."

Before I could process what she meant, she pulled a small, black collar from her pocket. It looked like something for an animal. She snapped it around my neck. It was tight, constricting.

A small remote appeared in her hand. She pressed a button.

A violent jolt of electricity shot through me. My body seized, every muscle locking in agony. I screamed, a raw, ragged sound that was swallowed by the hum of the servers. Then, darkness.