Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
We were barely sixteen, and she was already on her way to becoming an evil mastermind computer hacker, and I loved that about her. She could hack into any system across the globe, no matter the level of security. Mila always found a way in, but she played it smart and kept to herself, not like me at all. I always had a gift for finding trouble.
What can I say? Those childhood years really did a number on me. But now at twenty-four, I would argue that I’m one of the best contract killers in the world, and that’s not just my ego talking. Mila and I make an excellent team, and being each other’s family, we’ve never allowed the other to fall.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, flopping onto the edge of my bed, my new bodysuit making it impossible to get comfortable.
“You’re breathing heavy,” Mila says before sucking in a horrified gasp. “Are you doing cardio?”
Before she allows me the chance to respond, I hear the familiar sound of her fingers moving across the keyboard. I let out a sigh, knowing without a doubt that she’s hacking into either my home security or my laptop camera, and within seconds, she will have a perfect view into my bedroom.
Then, just as expected, Mila’s laugh booms through the phone. “Holy shit. It’s the bodysuit, isn’t it?”
I roll my eyes and try to pull myself to my feet to show it off as a stupid grin stretches across my face. “Yeah,” I admit, turning to better face my laptop when a green light appears at the top of my screen, letting me know my camera has been turned on. “What do you think? It was a challenge getting into it, and I’m pretty sure you’re gonna have to get off your ass and come cut me out of this thing, but I can’t lie. I’m obsessed.”
“You look like a snack.”
“Oh stop! You’re gonna make me blush.”
Mila scoffs, knowing it takes a shitload more than a simple compliment to make me blush. But before she gets a chance to hurl some ridiculous insult at me, she sucks in a gasp. “Holy shit. Check your email.”
“Huh? Why?” My brows furrow as I move toward my laptop. “Wait,” I say, staring directly into the little camera. “Are you in my emails again?”
“Just hurry up and check,” she says, clearing her throat and reading the subject line aloud. “Welcome to the Twenty-Third Annual War Games.”
My eyes widen as I dive the rest of the way toward my laptop, the bone-crushing bodysuit no longer able to hold me back. “Holy fucking shit! Are you serious?” I rush out, my fingers not able to move across the keys fast enough.
My heart races a million miles an hour. The idea of actually getting to participate in the games blows my mind. It’s been an ultimate dream since before I can remember. A real chance to actually prove myself, to prove I’m the best at what I do. Sure, there might be a risk or two involved, and death is highly likely, but if you’re not risking something, then is it really worth fighting for? Plus, there may or may not be a ten-million-dollar prize.
My emails finally come up on my screen, and I quickly navigate to the newest one. There are no sender details, but I didn’t expect there to be. War Games was founded by an organization that predominantly uses the dark web to run their “business,” and it’s only because of Mila and her insane hacking skills that we discovered any kind of information about them. There’s nothing special to know, just some dude living in his mother’s basement pulling strings, but it’s the people he’s able to bring into these games that excites me.
Opening the email, I quickly scan over the subject line just as Mila had.
Welcome to the Twenty-Third Annual War Games.
A chill sails down my spine. I’ve been waiting to be recognized for what I’m capable of, and being invited to participate is the greatest honor, but to actually win the games? Well, shit. I’ve been dreaming about that for years.The anticipation is too much, so I open the email and scan every last word.
Please join us for a month of pure madness.
Dawning on the town of Blue Springs, Montana, the 23rd Annual Serial Killer War Games will commence.
You, along with nineteen other elite killers at the top of their career, will descend on Blue Springs, Montana to battle it out for the ultimate prize.
Only one will remain and be awarded the most esteemed title—Winner of the 23rd Annual Serial Killer War Games.
The winner will collect ten million dollars in cash and the ultimate prize of officially being named the best in the business!
You have seventy-two hours to respond to this invitation before your place in the games is forfeited.