Elara's POV,
It took me just five days to catch the culprit. Five days; because it was such an effortless task, I didn't even bother trying for the first three days. At the end of the fifth day, I had found out who it was.
Rumors are networks. They have entry points, habits, and vanity. Seraphina is careless with her passwords and arrogant about her privacy. Honestly, it takes me less time than she spent choosing which lie would hurt me most. I slip into her accounts as though I belong there.
Her messages, drafts, and deleted folders are, in a sense, never truly deleted. The fingerprints are everywhere. There's cloud for a reason.
Coincidentally, I meet her in the gardens speaking to Lucien in that annoying high-pitched voice.
"Oh, hey Elara." She slurs and stretches out her arms. I think she wants to hug me. "I heard about the dilemma that happened."
I avoid her hug and instead bend to pluck a rose. I smile as sweetly as I can.
"How unfortunate," I say, sniffing the rose. "But it's life. One is bound to have embarrassing moments here and there."
I clasp my hands together. "Speaking of, I'd love to speak with you."
"Oh?" she raises a brow. "Okay, go ahead."
"Right." I toss the rose behind me. "I meant alone."
"Why?" she sneers. "Is there anything you're hiding from your husband, Elara?"
My "husband" hasn't even looked me in the eye. I ignore him, regardless. "Oh, I may be new at this, but I believe there are certain things called 'girl talk.'"
I smile, but my eyes scream. 'Get your fucking hands off my husband.'
"Sure." She looks at Lucien, and magically, there are stars in her eyes. "I'll talk to you later, Lucien."
The man just grunts and leaves us in the garden.
"Okay, so what is it?" She folds her arms across her chest, her attitude suddenly changed, and I turn to the bed of roses.
"In about five minutes, someone will post specific photos worldwide from the same account that posted my scandalizing photos. You should find them in your messages."
Her face turns ugly, but she opens her phone. She screams for just a second before cutting it short by covering her mouth.
I pout. "I didn't know your cousin liked the size and look of your boobs."
"Why are you doing this?" She hisses; suddenly her voice is quieter. I like it.
"Why?" I furrow my brows. "Same reason you had, probably. I want others to hate you as much as I do."
"I don't hate—"
"Spare me the bullshit." I thrust a flower I had just plucked into her mouth to keep her from spilling any more shit. "Listen carefully. I don't give a fuck if you generated my nudes and posted them on BBC, but apparently, my freedom and child are at stake here. So…"
I jerk my head towards her phone. "Take the photos down. You're smart enough to use a different account at least." I snort. "The same app you used to generate those pictures, use it to create an apology video and post it publicly, claiming that it was a harmless prank."
She mutters something. "What?"
"I didn't generate those pictures! It was a paid actor!" She snaps, and I scoff.
"Then you are more foolish than I thought!" I toss another flower behind me. "I don't care if you used a life-sized doll; just do as I say."
I start to walk out, then turn back.
"Oh, remember. Five minutes." I check the time on my phone. "Ah, it's four minutes now."
She complies faster than I expect. The posts vanish, and an apology video appears. She's an awkward blonde-haired girl, and a man who claims they wanted to target Lucien's new wife because they hated her, but now they've caught them. They even showed proof!
Damn, Seraphina can be reliable.
The rumors die in less than a week, and people start to apologize to me as they pass. For doubting Lucien's choice.
I've rolled my eyes more times than I can count in this abode.
Of course, Lucien never hears that it's his precious Seraphina, and in all sincerity, I don't think he deserves to know. He only nods once when I pass under the stairs to show his approval, and that makes me mad.
That night, I open my laptop. But for a different reason.
'It's been so long since I thought anyone a lesson.'
I should stop pretending the world plays fair. So, I continue quietly and methodically. I do not hack for thrills, money, or revenge. I hack because I've always understood how easily one could rearrange lies.
The corporate servers, private databases, and internal emails. I've always read what people never intended to be read. I've always watched how people made decisions behind polished statements and charitable press releases. I've always learned which companies buried scandals under rebrands and which executives mistook silence for innocence.
'So,' I ask myself, 'why stop now?'
Of course, I remember I had once told myself it was temporary. A phase. Something I would leave behind once I felt safe again.
But now I've learned the hard way: I'm not safe.
For my betterment, my skills have sharpened, and my conscience has adapted. I never touched those who had nothing and never destroyed without reason. I justified it by saying I was correcting imbalances, punishing arrogance, and protecting myself from ever being cornered again.
But the truth is simpler and less noble.
I hate being powerless. I hate how easily those lies could've ended me if I didn't know how to fight back.
But it's all a game to me. A show.
And it's all starting back where I planted the root… The Kórvacs'.