Dirty Hacker: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (Alpha Men Book Book 2) Read online

  At that moment, every apprehension I could have experienced flooded my brain. It would become real if The Alliance knew my name. It wasn’t a game. I couldn’t turn back.

  But I didn’t want to. Sure, things could get hairy. Very hairy. But I couldn’t punk out when it counted. And if I gave them my name, they’d know I was in it for real. I wasn’t only half-assing my allegiance. If I didn’t go with the opportunity, I would regret it for the rest of my life. I had to dive into the unknown and trust that it would all turn out for the best in the end.

  Hi. My name is Sophie Hanson. I live in New York.

  What would they think? Maybe that I was naïve? No. They had to take my response for what it was. A leap of faith. I trusted them. I trusted that they wouldn’t do anything wrong with my personal information.

  Two agonizing minutes passed by slowly, the clock ticking as I considered and reconsidered what I’d just done. Were they busy laughing at me for being so stupid? No, I realized. They were probably running a background check. Of course. It only made sense. I breathed a little easier when I considered it that way. They could even have been running a check on my computer to see if I had any accumulated information they might want to be privy to. Even though I protected myself against the general public and had been for years, I knew a superior hacker like the sort working with The Alliance could easily get through my firewalls. It was probably child’s play to them.

  When letters appeared on the screen, my heart leaped.

  You’re a recent high school grad?

  Very recent, yes, I typed.

  You are not the type of candidate we are in need of.

  Desperation clawed at me. I couldn’t let it go! I couldn’t let the chance of a lifetime slip through my fingertips. There had to be something I could do to help. After all the time I’d spent studying and locking myself away in my bedroom while exploring the darker side of the internet, I knew I was ready.

  Please. This is my dream.

  I tapped my fingers on my desk, my nails all chewed to nothing. “Come on, come on,” I whispered, pleading to a person who couldn’t hear me. “Please, give me a chance. Please.”

  I’m sorry. The Alliance is not a safe place for beginners.

  Over time, you will gain the tools you need to safely join us.

  For now, you are not ready.

  We appreciate your allegiance.

  With that, the Word document closed. My computer returned to the home screen. I stared at my desktop background. That was it. My chance was gone. I wasn’t frustrated. I was devastated. So what if I had just graduated high school? I had years of experience. I knew what I was doing—hell, I had found their email address, hadn’t I? And I had even been accepted to Harvard, which wasn’t exactly a place for idiots. What else could they ask for?

  Nope. I wasn’t about to give up. Determination blazed fiercely in my chest, replacing the devastation and desperation I’d felt before. I wanted it. I wanted it bad. I wasn’t going to give up that easily. No sense in wasting time, either.

  I sent another email to the YouTube address, only two words needed to convey my point: Train me.

  I waited a minute or two, watching my cursor intently. Waiting for it to move. I tried to move it myself once or twice, wiggling it from side to side, waiting to see what happened. What did happen? It moved from side to side, that’s what. Just as it would if I had full control of the computer. They weren’t biting again.

  There was nothing left to do but give up for the night.

  Chapter 4

  The following day, I couldn’t bring myself to open the laptop. I didn’t want to know for sure that I’d been rejected again. If I didn’t look, there was still a chance that I would get what I wanted more than anything else in the world. If I looked and there was no message or a message of rejection, the door would close forever.

  So I found things to do around the house, keeping to myself as much as I could. My parents apparently thought it was weird that I was out of my bedroom for long stretches of time—they used to joke that they didn’t recognize me sometimes as I walked around the house since they almost never saw me. But they held their tongues, thank God. I wasn’t in the mood to explain away my sudden desire to unload the dishwasher.

  Hours passed, and I began to realize my computer was like a drug. The pull was so strong, the urge to open it up and look around online tugging at my consciousness every minute of the day. More than a little unnerving, that. I wondered if I had a problem. Well, studies showed that kids my age couldn’t find the line between real life and virtual life, so I figured it was fitting. I was finally just like the other people my age.

  After dinner, I couldn’t wait anymore. I’d resisted the urge all day, but by the time it was dark, I was just about ready to jump out of my skin. I ran upstairs after clearing my plate in the kitchen, then logged into my computer with shaking fingers. What if there was nothing there? What if there was a rejection? What if my computer had been wiped clean as punishment for not taking no for an answer the first time?

  When I saw an email from an unknown email address, no subject, I was hesitant to click on it. Soon, I couldn’t help myself.

  Text this number: 555-289-3292

  I grabbed my phone, hands shaking, and sent a text to that number.

  This is Sophie, I texted.

  I held my breath after sending, not wanting to get my hopes up but unable to talk myself down. I assumed it was from The Alliance, but maybe it wasn’t. It could’ve been any weirdo sending a random message, hoping to get a girl to send him a pic of her boobs or something. I tapped my fingers on the desk, waiting for a text in reply. Would I finally get the answers I was looking for? Was this the first step in something bigger? Or would I get a dick pic?

  My phone buzzed.

  Consider yourself in training, the text said.

  I whooped, clamping my hands over my mouth before my parents overheard. The Alliance wanted me! I was in! It felt like the clouds that had moved over the sun, were finally breaking open to reveal light after a long storm. I was in. Me.

  That’s great. When do I begin? I texted back.

  Right now.

  Oh, shit. My heart started racing. What did that mean? What would they want me to do?

  Before I had the time to process what was happening, five texts came through in rapid succession. Each text contained a different link along with a passcode. I began to go through each link and sort the documents hidden behind those passcodes.

  Whoever I was talking to had just sent me a plethora of files revealing some of The Alliance’s background, what software they used, and so forth. My hands shook with excitement, and I couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot. It was in. They really wanted me if they were willing to reveal some of their secrets. I had finally joined something bigger than myself. I could finally make my path in the world.

  I started memorizing the information. I wanted to prove that I was worthy of the secrets revealed to me, that I would be loyal and would follow instructions.

  Of course, it wasn’t an overnight endeavor. There was more to learn than I’d learned in the last six years combined, ever since getting my first laptop. I spent long stretches of hours every day just pouring over the work, memorizing, learning long sequences of code. If I had questions, I would send screenshots to my contact, who would answer if they were able to. Sometimes, they’d tell me I was requesting unauthorized information. When that happened, I couldn’t help feeling like a chastised puppy—but it was never enough to make me leave. If anything, I wanted to work my way up to gain that authorization.

  And I felt like they respected me for it. The Alliance would never say so, and I would never ask if they did, but I still got the feeling they admired my tenacity. Our communication started easing up in tone over the following days of daily contact. We’d begun very formal, only exchanging information about the work I was doing. As I began to feel closer to my mentor, I started asking more pointed questions.

  One
rainy summer day, when I would have been “cooped up” anyway—my mother’s favorite term—I took a chance.

  So… Is it raining where you are? I texted.

  I didn’t expect a reply. Sometimes, when I asked something completely off-the-wall, The Alliance didn’t even get back to me. Sometimes, they simply weren’t available. I began to wonder if they were in a vastly different time zone. It was possible.

  After a few minutes, I got a message in reply.

  It is.

  My heart leaped. Were they close to me? Or was it just coincidence? It could rain in more than one place at one time, after all. Still, it seemed like a pretty big coincidence.

  Same here, I replied. It’s pouring. Rain always bums me out. Lol.

  Again, I didn’t expect anything back. I figured I’d pressed my luck too far. So when I got a reply, I couldn’t help smiling.

  Why’s that? Don’t like being wet?

  My eyes widened, and one corner of my mouth got a good workout from my teeth as I chewed, nervous all of a sudden. Did that mean what I thought it meant? Not that I was very experienced—in fact, I was completely inexperienced. I wasn’t used to flirting, either. Or throwing dirty talk around. Then again, I reminded myself, it might not have been dirty talk. It might have just been an innocent statement. Don’t read into it, I told myself. It wasn’t worth getting all worked up over.

  It’s depressing, but it makes sitting in my bedroom and working for hours on end more bearable, I replied.

  There. That would end it and let us move on. Maybe I shouldn’t ask so many questions if the answers would only make me uncomfortable.

  A few days later, in the middle of another work session, I couldn’t help myself. I searched my brain for something to talk about. It was almost July 4th.

  Will you be in town during the holiday? I asked.

  A few minutes passed.

  And what holiday would that be?

  I giggled.

  You know what I mean. Even if you’re not totally into it, lots of people go away. Will you? I answered.

  A full five minutes had passed before I heard back, and I couldn’t do anything but wait. I’d gone too far that time. I scrambled, trying to come up with a reason to have asked.

  It’s just good for me to know since I don’t plan on being anywhere and will be working on this. You know. In case I need you.

  I waited.

  I see. For a minute there, I thought you were getting personal with me.

  I blushed furiously.

  What’s wrong with wanting to know a little bit about you? I replied. You can find out anything you want to know about me, but I don’t know anything about you, I hit send before I lost the nerve.

  And this is why I knew this was a bad idea. Because you don’t know how to draw the line between personal and professional. You’re too young to understand that the closer you get to a person you’re working with in this respect, the more dangerous the work becomes.

  I had never felt so embarrassed. He was right—and how I knew he was a man, I didn’t know, but I had the feeling I was talking with the person who created the video that had spurred me to action. I needed to mature a little bit. Knowing what I needed to know was one thing, but having the maturity to know what to do with it was something else I lacked in. My cheeks burned with shame. I was glad he couldn’t see me.

  You’re right. I apologize, I responded.

  I waited another five minutes for a response.

  Maybe I was too harsh. I apologize, too. But you understand where I’m coming from, I suppose.

  I do. I’m not so immature that I don’t understand, I responded.

  Don’t sulk.

  I’m not sulking. I was agreeing with you. It’s impossible to inject a tone of voice into a conversation like this one, but trust me. I wasn’t sulking, I responded.

  I believe you.

  We got back to work after that.

  Chapter 5

  After another two weeks, it was obvious that I spent more time talking to my contact than to anyone in my “real” life. Funny, calling it that. What I did on the computer felt more real to me than anything else ever had. It was my life, plain and simple. An entire world I was lucky enough to know about. And I had this guy from The Alliance to guide me through it. His instructions were always clear, succinct. He wasn’t shy about giving praise when it was due, like when I managed to memorize the entire process for taking down a foreign server. When he praised me like that, I glowed. I loved knowing I’d pleased him. And deeper I sank into that new world.

  Maybe it was the way I’d never had anybody to really connect with the way I connected with him. I could be my true self, without holding anything back. I didn’t have to pretend to be into reality TV or so-called current music, which I thought was a bunch of garbage. I didn’t have to act like I was really enthused about anything people my age thought was important. It was refreshing, a relief. I owed him so much.

  That was why I gave in to the urge to ask yet another personal question one day at the end of July. I couldn’t help it. It was a question that had been teasing at the corners of my mind for weeks, ever since we first got started.

  What was it that made you message me back? You told me I was too inexperienced for The Alliance, and yet you got back to me the next day. Why? I texted.

  You’re still too inexperienced.

  I blinked, reading his words again.

  After all this work, all this training? I’m still too inexperienced for The Alliance?

  I previously stated that it was too dangerous for you to join—and that’s still true. You’re not training to join The Alliance.

  “What?” I nearly screamed. I was glad my parents were both at work since I heard my voice echoing throughout my bedroom. That would’ve been a surefire way to get them running up the steps to see what was wrong with me.

  My world spun on its axis. He wasn’t training me for working with him? How was that possible? Was this some sick, twisted Mr. Miyagi moment? No, not possible. He’d told me he was training me.

  Yes, but he never told me what he was training me for. My heart sank. It was all a waste. I’d been working my ass off all summer, and for nothing. I’d never been so angry with myself.

  Still there?

  Yes, of course. I’m not going to run away just because I’m disappointed, I replied.

  You see, I’m training you to understand that hacking is not about destruction. It’s about creation. I chose you specifically because of your persistence. One must never underestimate the power of persistence.

  That didn’t explain what I was supposed to be doing with him. I didn’t understand what I could be training for if it wasn’t to work with him. There I was, making assumptions. Envisioning myself working alongside him, being his partner, achieving great things together. Side-by-side, creating something big, bright and beautiful that would benefit everyone, not just the lucky few. And all the time, he was training me for something else. My heart broke.

  What’s your name? I asked, suddenly. I needed to know. It all seemed like such a charade.

  I’m not able to tell you. You should know that.

  I told you my name.

  Yes, as a way to gain my trust. You didn’t have a fraction as much to lose as I do. It would not be a good idea.

  I pursed my lips, thinking it through. I had to know something, anything. I felt at a total loss. I had to get something back, some footing.

  Just wondering. Are you a man? I’ve been assuming this entire time that you are.

  I am. Assumption correct.

  Okay, so I didn’t have to feel like such an idiot.

  What should I call you?

  Call me A.

  “A” for Alliance I assumed. Clever. I rolled my eyes and thought that wasn’t enough. I wanted more answers. Specifically, I wanted the answers my new friend wasn’t willing to give me. So I went down a road I’d been forbidding myself to travel for weeks.

  I went to Google and p
lugged in the phone number we’d been using to text with. I found that the number wasn’t a real phone number—instead, it came from a texting app. So I dug around and eventually found the real number the app was connected to. The number belonged to a man named Preston Phillips—and, lo and behold, he did live in New York. My head buzzed. He was so close—for a city with millions of people running around, we all pretty much lived on top of each other.

  So this was “A.” Well, I assumed as much, anyway. I couldn’t imagine bringing a civilian into his plans. He wouldn’t use this “Preston” person as a cover-up. No, the odds leaned in the favor of him being the man the number belonged to.

  So, I took a chance. I texted that personal number instead of the one we’d been using.

  Why don’t I just call you Preston, instead?

  I didn’t have to wait long for a response.

  Well done. You were able to track my number. I’m impressed.

  I wasn’t trying to impress you. I just want you to understand, I replied.

  Understand what?

  That I’m not willing to let this go so easily. I know I’m meant for more than whatever you’re training me for. I’m worth much more than that. I have what it takes to join The Alliance. And I want to understand, too.

  You’ll understand when you’re meant to.

  I wanted to scream. Why was he so enigmatic? Why couldn’t he open up and talk to me like one human being to another? His routine was starting to get old, big time. How could he not feel as close to me as I felt to him? There I was, fooling myself into thinking we were developing some kind of “friendship” together, while he was still holding me at arm’s length. It seemed laughable.

  I know you’re in NYC, I texted.

  And?

  I want to meet in person, I replied.