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“Is it weird that I can’t tell them apart sometimes?” The confession slips out, nearly lost in the sound of rain hitting the pavement. “Like, when we’re gaming, and he’s giving orders in that voice... It’s like my TikTok fantasies come to life.”

Jennapauses under the shelter of the awning, raindrops creating a curtain around us. Her expression softens.

“Just be careful,” she says, squeezing my arm. “The sexier and more amazing someone seems online, the more you have to verify they’re real.”

“I know he’s real.” I pull my phone out again, scrolling through our Discord chat as rain splashes onto the screen. “Look at these conversations. The way he analyzes game mechanics and his specific callouts during matches. You can’t fake that kind of knowledge.”

“I’m not saying he’s not a gamer.”Jennalooks at me with genuine concern, raindrops glistening in her hair. “But skilled players can still be different in person. Promise me you won’t meet him alone if he shows up at the con?”

“Fine.” I tuck my phone away. “You can be my chaperone. Though I’m pretty sure I can handle myself.”

“Against a guy who’s probably built like a tank, based on those mask pics? Let me be your backup, okay? Like in your games.” She pulls me into a quick hug before darting into the rain toward her car.

I stand alone under the awning for a moment. The rain washes the streets clean, reflections of neon signs and traffic lights rippling in puddles.Jenna’sright—of course, she’s right. Two years of excuses and dodged meet-ups don’t lie.

That edge inRogue’svoice when I mentioned GamerCon... I’ve heard it before. Every time I bring up a meeting in person, he gets distant, almost cold. The warmth that usually fills his words disappears, replaced by clipped responses and a sudden urgency to log off.

I step out into the rain, letting it soak through my hair and run down my face. The cold drops feel clarifying somehow, washing away the fantasy I’ve built around a man I’ve never met.

The thing is, I get it. Meeting someone in real life whom you met online is scary. What if we don’t click in person? What if the chemistry that makes us such great gaming partners doesn’t translate to real life?

But there’s something else in the way he avoids it. Something that makes my stomach twist when I think about it too hard. Like he’s protecting himself—or maybe protecting me.

From what, though?

I reach my car and slide inside, sitting in darkness as rain drums on the roof. My phone lights up with a notification—Discord.Rogue.

“Checked my schedule. Might be able to make GamerCon after all. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

My heart skips despite everythingJennajust said. Despite my own doubts. Despite two years of disappointment.

Because maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

5

RYKER

My finger darts across her image on my largest monitor, memorizing every pixel. Kira’s latest TikTok plays on a loop—she’s explaining her progress on her Aloy costume. The other five screens surrounding my command center display different aspects of her life: her browsing history, social media feeds, security camera feeds from her apartment building, and gaming stats.

“Who’s my good girl?” My obsession pulses through my veins like a drug.

The conversation from our gaming session last week replays in my mind. Her voice, so eager to meet at the convention, makes my cock twitch. She has no idea I’ve already mapped out every detail of our first encounter.

“Soon. Very soon.”

I pull up the convention center blueprints, checking my marked exits and secure locations for the hundredth time. The private security contract I arranged under a shell company ensures I can access and manipulate the camera feeds completely. My fingers fly across the keyboard, activating the self-erasing backdoor I installed in their security system last month during a “routine upgrade” from my company.

Most hackers get caught because they leave digital footprints, breadcrumbs that reveal someone has been there. Amateurs. As CEO of KentSec Systems, I’ve spent years developing undetectable intrusion methods that even government agencies haven’t identified. The same technology I sell to protect corporations is what I’ve modified to make myself a ghost in Kira’s systems.

Her browser history from last night makes me smile—more searches about Ghost and dominant men. She’s practically begging for me to take her, to own her. Every night lately, she falls asleep with my TikTok videos still playing.

“You want to meet so badly, don’t you?” I click through the surveillance photos I’ve taken over the years. “But we can’t just bump into each other at some crowded convention. No, no, no. That won’t do at all.”

I pull up the schedule, assessing when the crowds will be thickest and when security will be distracted. Everything has to be planned meticulously. She deserves perfection.

“I’ve waited so long, trained so hard.” I flex my muscles. “Time to level up our relationship. Game over for your old life.”

I flip between camera feeds as Kira’s key turns in her lock. The hallway cam catches her tired smile before she disappears inside. My fingers hover over the keyboard, switching to the interior feeds.