35 A Game Of Death

''This bitch just drove me into a corner.'' Jay slammed the door to his inner quarters, his eyes wondering around, not fixed on any direction particularly.

Grabbing a whiskey, he swirled the champagne glass for a brief moment before gulping its content in one go.

Burrh… he burped, wiping the corner of his lips as he walked towards his personal computer adjacent to his bed.

His fingers did some acrobatic movements as he input some command's before smashing the enter button with attitude.

He may not look like it, but he knew one or two things as a wannabe IT specialist. Jay knew that if he hadn't squandered his life on women, drugs and hangouts, he probably would've made a good hacker.

But duh, why stress himself when he could enjoy daddy's money. His father was the States president after all. Influence, fame, wealth, status? He had it all.

'Tsk, just as expected, the fucking weirdo can't be traced, at least not with my level of expertise.'' Jay clicked his tongue, slamming the PC shut
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