Tilda picked the motel for two simple reasons. One, it was cheap. Two, it kept her off the radar. Hotels asked for ID. Even if she wore a cap and shades, it wouldn't matter now—her name and face were everywhere. "Sure thing," the cab driver said with a nod. He looked like he'd been doing this job forever, the kind of guy who knew every back alley and shortcut in the city. Her request didn't even raise an eyebrow. Then— "Miss, you came from that fancy neighborhood up on the hill, right? That's where the Jensons live, isn't it?" He squinted at her through the rearview mirror. "You look familiar. Have we met?" Right on cue, the radio crackled with breaking news—another update about the real Jenson heiress. "I'm not her," Tilda said coolly. "I've got nothing to do with them." “Oh. My bad," the driver said quickly. "It's just… the Jensons have been all over the news today." "It's fine." A few minutes later, the cab rolled to a stop in front of a run-down little motel tucked away on a quiet street. The sign flickered weakly in the dark. Tilda handed over the cash, checked in, and slipped into her room. She dropped her suitcase with a dull thud, pulled out her phone, and hit a contact. A cheesy ringtone blasted through the silence—Don't tell me it's not worth trying for, you can't tell me it's not worth dying for… Then came a voice, practically exploding through the speaker. "Queen! Oh my god—it's really you! I thought you were gone for good! You vanished off the dark web and swore you'd never come back!" Tilda had expected that reaction. She pulled the phone a little away from her ear. "Andy, I need cash. I'm taking jobs again. Got anything quick?" "You're coming back?!" Andy Saville practically shouted. "Damn! The dark web's about to lose its mind again! Queen, with your record? You'll have work in minutes. Gimme a sec—I'll find something worth your time." He hung up before she could answer. Tilda pulled a sleek black laptop from her backpack and set it on the desk. The screen lit up. Her fingers flew across the keys, entering a long chain of passwords. A familiar image appeared: a massive bronze door with a blood-red skull carved into its center. Then came the voice—low, distorted, crawling under the skin. "Welcome back, Queen." "I'm back," she whispered. She'd never thought she'd log in again. The Dark Web—true to its name—was a hidden world connecting the underbelly of society. It had everything: black-market auctions, assassins for hire, data brokers, hackers. If something was illegal, you could find it here. But curiosity alone didn't get you in. You needed connections, power, or money—preferably all three. Clients who didn't meet the bar were wiped from the system. As for contractors? They were a rare breed—the kind of people who could make or break entire networks with a few keystrokes. To get an account, you had to survive the administrator's test. Pass it, and you’d earn your login and password. Tilda had passed years ago. Codename: Queen. Once, she had ruled this space. A living legend among hackers. And now, word of her return hit the dark web like a thunderclap. Her inbox exploded—message after message lighting up the screen. "Queen's back?!" "Is this for real?" "The Queen has returned!" She opened her old profile, deleted the line that read Retired. Gone for good, and replaced it with just two words: I'm back. That alone was enough to set the entire underground ablaze. Queen had returned. Hackers everywhere were losing their minds. In their world, she was untouchable—the hacker who'd cracked Motrar's "unbreakable" firewall. The code had been flawless, or so the experts thought. But Queen had found its weakness, exploited it, and brought the entire system down. The breach was so catastrophic, the country had to rebuild its cybersecurity from scratch. That single job had made her a legend. If Queen couldn't find it—it didn't exist. A month ago, she'd shocked everyone by announcing her retirement, deactivating her account overnight. Rumors flew—had she been caught? Killed? Recruited? Now, the mystery was over. Queen was back. Her phone buzzed again. "Queen, I got something for you," Andy said, breathless. "Need a terrorist group's firewall taken down. Five mil. Instant payment." "Done." She had her own code for work: Rule One — Never take a job that threatens national security. Rule Two — Never cross the line of basic human decency. Rule Three — Never turn on the innocent. Because of those rules, she'd turned down plenty of high-paying offers. Most of the clients on the dark web were knee-deep in filth. But this? This one she could take. Her fingers moved like lightning, lines of code cascading down the screen in a blur—symbols, numbers, commands flowing like a waterfall. To anyone else, it would've looked like gibberish.To her, it was music. The terrorist group's firewall crumbled under her attack like tissue paper. "All done," she said. “Perfect. I'll wire the payment—same account?" “Yeah. Andy, your cut's a million—" "Forget it," he interrupted. "Call it a welcome-back gift. You gave up everything when you left. I'm guessing you've got a lot going on right now. Take it. Trust me—you're gonna need the money." "Thanks." A small smile tugged at her lips. This—this rush—was what she'd missed. The control. The power. The freedom. She'd been given a second chance, and she wasn't about to waste it pretending to be someone she wasn't. No more swallowing her instincts for the sake of a family that never wanted her. Andy hesitated before asking quietly, "Queen… didn't you find your real family? Wasn't that why you quit? To keep them safe? You even gave away everything you'd earned." "I don't have a family," Tilda said flatly. "Not anymore. From now on, I belong to no one. I live for myself." Her voice was steady—sharp enough to cut glass. No hesitation. No doubt. Andy said nothing for a long moment. He knew her story. He'd always been the only one who did. No one would've guessed that the legendary Queen—the hacker who'd once brought governments to their knees—was just a nineteen-year-old girl who'd grown up alone. She'd finally found her birth family… only to lose everything all over again. Andy's chest tightened. He knew how much she'd craved love. But the deeper you love, the deeper you bleed when it's gone. "Don't worry, Queen," he said softly. "I've got your back. If anything happens, I'll be there. Even if the whole world turns on you—I won't." Tilda's voice softened. "Thanks, Andy. You're my best friend. Always." There was a pause. Then Andy's tone changed. "One more thing," he said carefully. "Someone with your same blood type reached out to me."