Chapter 3

"Mitchell, are you out of your mind?" Roxy's shriek was like a bucket of ice water, dousing what little was left of my burning sanity.

I looked at her pale face, her eyes still filled with terror. And then there was the spatula lying on the floor, a pool of oil around it.

For a moment, the rage in my heart was suppressed.

But the humiliation of being played, of being betrayed, still bit into my heart like the fangs of a venomous snake.

The pain pierced straight to my core.

I couldn't let this go.

I, Mitchell, was not some worthless loser to be trampled on!

"I'm fine," I said, taking a deep breath. My throat felt so dry it hurt, and my voice came out hoarse, barely sounding like me.

"Something went wrong at work. I lost my temper."

I shot a glance at the fist-shaped dent in the wall, dust drifting down from the small crater.

Roxy's eyes were rimmed red, her voice thick with tears. "I don't care how rough work gets, you can't freak out like that! You scared the crap out of me!"

She walked over, carefully reaching out as if wanting to take my hand.

Her eyes were full of worry. Was that a hint of imperceptible fear?

I stiffly let her hold my hand. Her fingers were ice-cold and trembling.

"I'm sorry I scared you," I muttered, my eyes unable to meet hers.

That photo, and those words, kept looping in my mind, like a curse I couldn't shake off.

"Let's eat first," Roxy said. "The food's getting cold."

She sniffled and tried to force a smile, but it looked more like she was about to cry.

I nodded, following her to the dining table like a robot.

The table was full of all my favorite dishes.

But the smell of roasted beef, usually my favorite, made me feel sick to my stomach right now.

I forced down a few bites, but everything tasted bland and lifeless.

Roxy tried to speak up a few times, but the silent expression on my face kept her quiet every time.

After we finished eating, she quietly gathered the dishes and cleaned up.

I retreated straight into the study and locked the door behind me.

The computer screen flickered to life, its pale glow illuminating my grim face.

I was a programmer. Code was my weapon.

If that bastard dared to provoke me with an email, I'd drag him out myself.

I pulled up the email and started analyzing the email header.

IP addresses, proxy servers, one redirect after another...

Every single byte, every packet, felt like it was mocking me for thinking I could actually pull this off.

This guy was a real pro, or maybe a careful pervert.

Every trace had been meticulously wiped clean, like a slick eel slipping through the dark depths of the net, not leaving a single trail I could follow.

An hour went by. Then another.

Sweat dripped from my forehead onto the keyboard, my eyes bloodshot from hours of intense focus.

Failure.

Total failure.

Trying to do this on my own was like searching for a needle in the ocean.

That same crushing sense of helplessness hit me again, like it was about to swallow me whole.

Yet, I refused to give up.

If I couldn't do this alone, then I'd get someone to back me up.

A few faces flashed through my mind in an instant.

My college buddy, Moses Chance, was now a core member at one of the country's top cybersecurity companies.

He specialized in dealing with hackers and viruses, and tracking down their sources was his forte.

Then there was Guince, a guy I'd met through gaming. He was street-smart and always in the loop.

Word was, he had ties with all sorts of people from every walk of life, so getting him to conduct a "special investigation" wouldn't be a problem.

And then there was even a distant cousin of mine, rumored to have started his own private detective agency.

It might not sound all that reliable, but in times like these, I couldn't afford to let any lead slip by.

I was about to unleash all my "hounds" and hunt down that bastard hiding in the shadows.

I picked up my phone and took a deep breath.

Forcing myself to calm down, I dialed Moses' number.

It rang a few times before finally connecting.

"Hello? Mitchell? Well, look who it is! What brings you to call me today?"

Moses' cheerful voice came through the receiver.

"Moses, I'm in big trouble. I really need your help."

My voice was hoarse.

"Oh? What's got you so worked up?"

I licked my cracked lips and lowered my voice.

"It's an anonymous email. The content is disgusting. I want to find out who sent it."

There were a few seconds of silence on the other end.

"Forward it to me. I'll take a look."

Moses' tone turned serious as well. "But you need to be mentally prepared. We might not be able to track it down."

"I know. Just do your best!"

After hanging up, I felt a small wave of relief, but my chest was still tight with tension.

Just then, there was a soft knock on the study door.

"Darling, I brought you some water."

It was Roxy. She sounded a little hesitant.

I opened the door, and there she was, standing in the doorway with a glass of water in her hand.

Her pajama collar was slightly open, revealing a patch of creamy skin.

In the dim hallway light, her features were blurry. She seemed to be avoiding my gaze.

Was she still the gentle, caring Roxy I thought I knew?

Or was that alluring expression in the photo her true self, the side she never let me see?

I took the glass from Roxy, my fingertips accidentally brushing against hers. Her hand was still ice-cold.

"Get some rest," I said, trying my best to stay calm.

Roxy nodded, then turned and walked away.

Her slender figure seemed to retreat a little too quickly under my gaze.

As I watched her walk away, that photo popped back into my mind.

Rage and suspicion bit at my heart like two venomous snakes, tearing me up inside.

I had to pretend I didn't know a thing. I couldn't let her realize I was onto her.

Only then could I keep an eye on her and wait for her to slip up.

And only then could I force the mastermind behind this to show up when he least expected it.