“We know the laptop model, so we can practice opening it to access the hard drive. Then we use a cloning station to duplicate it onto a blank hard drive and return everything as it was. He’ll never even know we were there.”
“That’s a lot of tools.”
“It’s not like they will search us when we arrive. And we can use a small cloning station and a one-terabyte microSD. That should be plenty enough.”
“We’d probably need an adapter to clone to a Micro SD. But I like that it’ll be almost impossible to find once it’s cloned. In case they do catch us.”
“See? My plan doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”
“It’s starting to sound good, yes.”
“It soundsgreat.”
“Except for the part where you go back there tomorrow.”
“It’s a key element. It can’t work without hiding that camera.”
“I realize that.”
Again, I stay silent for a moment. She stays as she is, facing me from the other end of the tub. Every part of me wants to say no, to end this nonsense and move on, but it feels like we’re finally reaching the end of this nightmare. Becker’s vices, whatever they are, are within our reach, or almost, and we need to exploit that. We need to get whatever is on his laptop and get him locked up for the rest of his life. Only then, once he’s been ostracized and cut off from the world and his wealth, will we be free.
And even though I’m not one for revenge, I crave it. I long to make him pay for what he did to us, for pushing for my trial, for getting Andrea shot, for hurting Maria Carmen… I need Becker to pay for it. And if the world has taught me one thing, it’s that men like him never pay for their actions. They glide above repercussions, as if untouchable, unconcerned. I’ll prove him and everyone else wrong. Men like him can pay. And he will.
“Okay,” I say, determined to end this.
“Okay, what?”
“We’re going with your plan.”
Her face lights up with surprise and joy. “Really?!”
“Yes, let’s get that fucking piece of shit.”
“That’s the spirit,” she appreciatively says, sliding closer to me.
I assist her as she comes to straddle me, the ceramic slippery. “You’ll see, baby. My plan’s the fucking bomb. We’ll get out of it alive and unharmed.”
“No matter what, if you go down, I go down.”
“Same here, baby.”
When she kisses me with invigorated excitement, I feel like what Clyde must have felt with Bonnie. It’s always been us against the world, but not to this extent. We’re going to war, and either we make it out together, or not at all.
Becker hasn’t left yet, and I’m running out of patience. He’s apparently cooped up in his office with a business partner or something, which robs me of my opportunity to do what I must. I’ve spent the entire morning following Paola around and cleaning things, swallowing back my frustration.
Before my shift, Lex and I headed to an electronics store and found the perfect micro camera. The store clerk explained how it worked, how to activate it, and everything. It currently resides in my bra, waiting to be taken out and hidden in the safe niche. But for that, I need to get into that fucking office.
I eye the wall-mounted clock in the room we’re currently working in, and see it’s past noon. Fuck, I was only supposed to come back for another morning, but it looks like I’ll have to stay this afternoon as well. Biting back my frustration, I return to my task. Paola and I are seated at the table in the family dining room, polishing the silverware. I thought having that many maids was a little much, but having worked here since Monday, I now understand why. This place is not only huge, but its owners are obsessed with keeping everything as pristine as possible. Twelve full-time maids and six extras for the week isn’t absurd given those facts.
I’m almost done with my set of forks when Mrs. Reed appears from the service door that leads to the personal chef’s kitchen. “You,” she calls out, pointing at me. “Come with me.”
My heart instantly reacts, its pulse quickening. Fuck, fuck, fuck… Am I in trouble? Did they notice any suspicious behavior on the CCTV? Did they realize the identity I gave them is false?
Mrs. Reed doesn’t wait for me to comply, returning to the kitchen. My eyes dart to Paola, who seems as worried as I am. Should I follow the housekeeper or escape? What the hell is going on?
“Paola, you can go clean Mr. Becker’s office. You’ll finish this later.”
Just my fucking luck… The office is finally free, and I can’t go. Have our stars turned their backs on us? Is our lucky streak over? I’ll get caught, never get to hide the camera, and they’ll throw my corpse somewhere no one will ever find me. Not even Lex.
