Loving the Unlovable

Written on August 7, 2022 | by Jun P. Espina | 19 min read

[ Short Fiction Story. Semi SciFi. Gen. Fiction. Invented names & places. ] FICTION

Kill her, kill her,” he ordered.

It was a long chase, but Quinn had been cornered—at last! She hid in her bullet-proof car, then shouted: “12:00 o’clock, Fire!”

Quinn’s race car had been built for this purpose—a gun fight. She had perfected her robotic software after years of coding. Now her automatic submachine guns are obeying her voice with intelligence and military precision.

“Cover… take cover!” The gang leader yelled to his men.

Quinn’s firepower was just overwhelming.

His three cars had all been riddled with bullets, including almost all of their tires. He was forced to abort the chase. But it was too late. Quinn’s Barrett M82 sniping rifle eliminated them all.

“Hide!” Quinn ordered her guns to hide their protruding barrels, then fled to the city.

+ + +

At age 16, Quinn celebrated her birthday at their magnificent mansion by the river. Her father was a wealthy entrepreneur. Her gift that evening was an awfully expensive high-tech camera disguised as a ring.

“Wear it, my girl, and always turn it on.”

As the only child of the Borras family, she lived like a princess but was innocent as a kitten and did not know many things in life, given her well-sheltered life.

A moment after all their visitors left their mansion, a group of masked men suddenly entered the house, saying, “We are the Oramatists. Surrender all your cash and jewelry or you will all die like all your guards. Cash or death!”

Quinn’s father was a seasoned businessman, always armed and expecting a fight every day—he knew he was the bad guys’ perfect target. But after firing at the two bad guys, he got hit and fell to the floor, lifeless.

“Papa!” Shock. Quinn screamed and then dashed into her room. But one robber followed her inside.

“You know the pack!” roared the gang leader.

It was about rape as a part of the group’s agreement.

“Don’t shoot. Hold your fire! I’ll give you cash and jewelry.” Quinn’s mother quaked.

“Drop, face down, hands in the air,” ordered a masked man in Quinn’s room.

She thought she would be the next one to die. Horrified, she trembled like a scared dog. She pointed her ring camera in the guy’s direction.

The robber touched her waist and then undressed her awkwardly. He was also trembling. His hands were cold and nervous. It was his first time.

A virgin, Quinn didn’t move, obedient like the one in captivity. Survival occupied her thoughts. She didn’t want trouble with a wild, armed young man. She didn’t want to die.

The man moaned, enjoying his first drilling ever. Then he left the room quickly while Quinn tried to recover her sanity and focus.

They also raped the maids in different rooms. And they took all cell phones away, so they could not report them to the police.

Later, the police confirmed the robbers were the notorious “Eagle-5.” This group is a part of an elite secret society known as the Oramatists.

Quinn’s mom hired high-profile lawyers to take their case, but the gang was just too well-connected. It was rumored they were the children of corrupt politicians, billionaires, and military officers.

Quinn felt so abused and her beloved father’s death was so unjustified and barbaric. She must fight back.

It was her obsession at age 16. Instead of attending college, she studied computer programming through a hired tutor and the Internet, and she attended martial-art sessions, the art of combat and sharp-shooting—all her energies and focus fueled her obsession to take revenge, kill her tormentors, and seek justice with her own bare hands. She went to the gym daily and now, after years of hard work, she is ready for combat.

Since grade school, her parents thought she was a computer genius. At age 12, she could already move her toys using her mobile phone. Through months and months of persistent software development, she had mastered the “Internet of Things,” hacking, and other skills that are only mastered by the computer geniuses of the world.

On the Internet’s dark side, Quinn was famously known under the code name HMR, which simply means, “Hell for My Rapist.” Big companies would hire her behind the scenes to stop a virus or other unique challenges.

“Who is this entering our framework?”

hacker

Quinn’s concrete idea was to hack the police database so she could have information about Eagle-5 and Oramatist. But the police professional hacker quickly accessed Quinn’s computer to fight back.

“This is HMR, permission to access your database.”

Code name Polis100: “Stop it, HMR. Hacking is a serious crime.”

HMR: “No, I’ve got a right according to the “Access to Information Law.”

Polis100: “Hacking or stealing information is illegal.”

HMR: “Well, I have finished downloading the entire police database already. Goodbye.”

Then, Quinn fired up her invented software to scrub away any trace of connection with a website or fellow hacker. She also invented her chat and browser to shield her anonymity.

After a while, Polis100 contacted HMR through the hackers’ website known as “Anonymous,” a very secretive place without cookies or any tracing bot.

Polis100: “HMR, please acknowledge.”

HMR: “Anything?”

Polis100: “The higher-ups of the police record department are asking for your help. You are a famous hacker on the dark Internet. Name your price.”

HMR: “Ok, what is that?”

Polis100: “Give us complete information about the secret society known as the ‘Oramatist.’ In the Police Database, which is already in your possession, it is filed under the folder name, Oramatist, password: ‘Enemy-01.’ You can start from there.”

HMR: “Cool, $2M, two weeks.”

Polis100: “Deal, we will transfer the money ASAP to your bank.”

Extremely excited about the clue, Quinn wasted no time digging.

In a folder named Oramatist, she searched for “Borras Robbery,” and five names surfaced. What caught her attention was the name Cooper Bread, the mayor’s family name.

Quinn then went on social media, including Facebook, Instagram, and others, where she discovered the guy who had recently passed the Bar. He is now Atty. Cooper Bread, and the potential political successor to his father.

Queenie Borza was the alias used by Quinn in all her social media accounts. She followed him, liked his posts, and sent him messages of appreciation until they became friends. Quinn had not been afraid of exposing her face to the world since her rapist had told her to put her face down on the floor. He didn’t have a little idea of her looks.

Both Quinn and Cooper have superior genes—both are good-looking and intelligent. And both are extremely wealthy. They became friends easily.

Quinn remembered her ring camera. She downloaded the captured photos onto her laptop and studied the visible features of the masked man who raped her.

She focused on the eyes and the brows and compared them with Cooper’s. In a few years, there was a physical change, of course, but the mole on his forehead? So, he downloaded some of Cooper’s photos from Facebook and enlarged them using Photoshop, and bingo, it was Cooper, her rapist!

“Now’s the time for revenge,” her blood inflamed by the mere mention of the word “revenge.” Her strategy is to get closer to Cooper. She wanted concrete evidence so she could liquidate Cooper while avoiding the teeth of the law.

“Hi, Atty. Can I buy you a drink? Let’s meet.”

“Okay, Miss Queenie, at noon, let’s have lunch together.”

Quinn met Cooper for the first time, and she couldn’t deny she liked him at first sight. Maybe her rape experience suddenly tied itself to a handsome guy. But she was not an idiot. This guy is a member of the gang that killed his father. She must stifle all forms of lust for Cooper.

Cooper also found Quinn extremely likable. She is really rich and an intelligent girl.

Quinn ordered two servings of juice and put a sleeping pill into Cooper’s glass that would work only for five minutes—just a little nap. Cooper returned from the restroom and drank his juice. When Cooper felt sleepy, Quinn injected a little anesthetic between the guy’s thumb and index finger so she could microchip him painlessly.

She developed her talking microchip for years, and it is now embedded in Cooper’s hand. Through it, she would know Cooper’s location and could also hear any form of conversation Cooper was having.

After lunch, she thanked, hugged, and kissed Cooper and then left ahead of him.

Cooper forgot he slept for five minutes because of the kiss.

Five days had passed, but Quinn noticed Cooper had no suspicious schedule or conversation. He had a regular house-to-office routine. Boring. The action she expected didn’t come until Sunday morning.

“Bro. Eagle-5, meeting, usual place.”

It was confirmed. Cooper was a member of the Eagle-5 gang. But where’s the meeting place? Quinn decided to just keep on listening. She had already prepared her armored car, just in case.

“Brothers,” Cooper did the talking, “you know that a few years ago, I raped a girl as part of my initiation to become a bonafide gang member. I was 16. I didn’t understand things. Now, I am a lawyer. You know, after raping the girl, I had a nervous breakdown, so I distanced myself from Eagle-5 until today. The memory of our boss killing her dad terrified me until now. I just am not fit to be a gangster. I am religious naturally, but my father is a member of the Oramatists, and he wanted me to have a feel for the secret society. Please consider me your lawyer, but I have to stay away from the action.”

“Cooper,” replied the boss, “Oramatist has its strict orders for members like you and your father. Let’s meet next Sunday, same time, here at the green house, Acacia Street, so we can hear from the Oramatist guys concerning your case. Meanwhile, let’s disperse.”

“Acacia, green house,” Quinn ordered her car. When she reached the address, she still saw Cooper there.

I must save Cooper from the Oramatist.

She returned home and there put to pieces her hacked information concerning the way the Oramatist higher-up, or “Supremo,” dealt with his members who were officially expressing resignation from the society. It always revolved around money for Oramatist services or death.

As a secret society, the Oramatist has the power to put a politician into office or to blackmail him if he resists the will of the society. Its supremo, named Cassius, is brutal, inhuman, and always gets what he wants. He is a Luciferian, and almost all his buddies in the higher echelon of this society are rapists, murderers, and pure evil. The society has lawyers, priests, generals, politicians, and other powerful people on its payroll.

Oramatist (the Greek for “visionary”) officers believed their secret society was invincible and backed up by Satan himself.

Quinn had already submitted all the details about Oramatist to the police as per agreement. All the hacked info could be useful if the police wanted to secure a warrant of arrest for all 150 ranking members, excluding the thirty little gangs that they created to rob the banks and the wealthy in the entire country. Almost every week, the Oramatist-managed bad guys would commit crimes and extortions. The complete eradication of the notorious secret society was always the police’s top priority. The gangs would remit online 30% of the cash they produced to the Oramatist’s secret Swiss bank account.

HMR: “Are you there?”

Quinn tried to reach her police contact, codenamed Polis100, through the “Anonymous” website.

Polis100: “Yes.”

HMR: “All details about Oramatist have already been submitted. Task completed.”

Polis100: “Copy.”

HMR: “FYI: Cassius ordered ex-Mayor Bread and his son to report at the Green House at noon on Sunday. It must be bloody, according to the Oramatist rules.”

Polis100: “Copy, be there.”

+ + +

“Cooper, fast. We would be late. You don’t know yet how brutal Cassius is.”

“I’m all set, father. Let’s go.” Cooper started the car.

It was Sunday, and Quinn had already prepared for this. She wanted to see and kill, if possible, the killers of her father, the members of the Eagle-5 gang. And she could only secretly enter the Green House if she wore the maid’s uniform and pretended to be one of them.

She hid her .45-caliber with a tablecloth. She wore a wig, shades, and heavy makeup, so Cooper couldn’t recognize her.

In the conference room, Cassius stood and ordered ex-Mayor Bread to stand up. Then he said in an angry tone,

“Bread, resignation hugely violates the Oramatist’s rules as a secret society. You know that the punishment is payment to the society’s services for making you mayor or death.”

Shock! Cooper didn’t know what to do to protect his father.

The ex-mayor got so mad that he pulled his gun out, but Cassius fired at him first. He dropped to the floor, half-dead. Another shot and Cassius also fell to the floor.

Commotion… confusion…

“A maid fired at the Supremo,” shouted the gang leader of Eagle-5. Quinn ran so fast to her car and then fled. The gang leader couldn’t hit her. She was prepared for this.

Cooper rushed his father to the hospital while the buddies of the Supremo tried to revive him. But Quinn’s shooting skills never failed her. She targeted Cassius’s heart, and it was just perfect.

“Three cars… chase her.” The gang leader got hysterical.

Instead of returning to the city, Quinn drove her powerful car to a hilly place. She had a plan.

“Stop!” she ordered her self-driving car.

“Ready for combat.” The barrels of her five robotic submachine guns just slowly emerged out of her car’s body. She positioned her Barrett M82, her father’s sniper rifle, ready to kill.

Eagle-5’s leader got confused. The maid’s car halted. Perhaps it broke down, he thought.

“Get down, let’s punish the girl, attack!” He underestimated the “maid.” After all, maids know nothing about war.

But when they got closer, Quinn targeted each one of them—there were four in three cars—and each one of them fell to the ground like one experiencing death by a sudden heart attack. The heart was her favorite target—she had almost achieved her planned revenge. She had just liquidated all four Eagle-5 members, except one, her rapist.

A few more cars pursued her, the Eagle-5 backup.

“Aim… fire… ” Her submachine guns obeyed her voice, and the Oramatist killers feared her so they never tailed her again.

The police officers were there, but they kept a suitable distance, fearful of the Oramatist network.

Queenie Borza: “Hi, Cooper, how’s your father?”
Cooper: “How did you know?”
Queenie Borza: “Social Media. Please give me your address.”
Cooper: “General Hospital, ICU, second floor.”

Quinn arrived at the ICU, and she hugged Cooper.

Cooper is wondering why the kiss and the hug.

“I have fruit.” But Cooper noticed her odd-looking black ring when she handed him the fruits. He felt something inside of him. “What is this fear?” he asked himself.

A few moments later, Cooper’s girlfriend arrived. She was Sylvia Gutierrez—beautiful, rich-looking, spoiled, dominant, and snobbish. She realized Quinn was in the room. Quinn asked permission to leave, but Cooper grabbed her hand and objected.

“Please, don’t leave. I’m so confused. Who’s that maid who saved me and my father from the brutal Cassius today?”

He turned to Sylvia and said, “Please leave us alone for a moment. I’ve something very important to discuss with Queenie.”

“Queenie! Is that her name? Did you ignore me because of her?”

She got so mad and burst out crying. “I’m here for your father. I hate you!”

“Let’s have dinner, Queenie,” he said, grabbing her hand and wondering why she seemed to enjoy it so much.

At the dinner table in an exclusive restaurant, Quinn asked Cooper: “She is exquisite. Is she your girlfriend?”

“She is the daughter of my father’s business partner, and both our parents wanted me to marry her, but I don’t love her. I just don’t like her social disorder and pretension of superiority.

“Can I say something, Queenie?”

“What is that? Just say it.”

“Did you know I couldn’t sleep normally after you kissed me? Why, did you know who I am, how bad I had been?”

“Ah, forget it,” replied Queenie. “It was Judas’s kiss.” She laughed.

“Did you know,” Cooper continued hesitantly, “that…”

He couldn’t say it. He got nervous, awkward.

“What’s that? Say it, Cooper, I’m waiting.” She smiled.

“Well, the first time we met, I had a big crush on you. I just don’t know why. I just want to be with you and die for you. There is something inside of me. Something akin to a guilty conscience. Please help me.”

“How can I help you?”

“By loving me too.”

“Why aren’t you safe in my presence?”

“I’m curious about your black ring.” Cooper changed the topic.

“Why?”

“It reminded me of something,” Cooper said.

“What is it? Well, I’m full. Where’s our next stop?” Quinn wanted to hide her black ring.

“Cooper, I’ll just follow you. I have my ride.”

Cooper stopped by an isolated beach, facing a beautiful mountain. Quinn was fearless, knowing her car was armed to the teeth.

The following day, Cooper’s father was transferred to a regular room. “Cooper,” his father wanted to say something. “Who killed Cassius? It was impossible. Everyone in the meeting was his dog. Who betrayed him?”

“The bullet seemed to come from a maid who was hiding her gun with a tablecloth on her arms,” Cooper couldn’t say any more.

“What, can you recall her?”

“Well, she looks familiar. But what triggered my recollection of her was her black ring.”

Cooper sighed as if remembering a bad dream.

“I was informed that all your brothers in Eagle-5 pursued the maid, and all of them got hit in the heart, just as Cassius died with a bullet in his heart. The girl was a well-trained sharpshooter.” He gasped for more air. He felt the pain in his right breast from Cassius’s bullet.

Quinn was in her room listening to the discussion through her microchip in Cooper’s hand.

“Papa, did you know the police found sufficient evidence against the Oramatists, and a judge ordered the arrest of all of them?”

“Yes, I know, and I’m thinking the two of us will be sent to prison together in the coming weeks.” He cleared his throat. “What is your legal opinion, Cooper?”

“Well, our resignation cannot help us concerning our past crimes as Oramatist members. It is an organized crime, and the crime of one is the crime of all.”

Tears flowed out of Quinn. She is just a woman. She wanted to hug Cooper and tell him everything, but her revenge was not over yet.

Cooper’s father is now resting in his glittering mansion, and he wanted to reward the maid who saved his life with tons of money. He reflected that money is nothing to a dead man.

“Cooper, tell me more about the black ring. I wanted to reward the girl.”

“Okay, father, I’ll try to explore further on this.”

Hearing this, Quinn cut off her contact with Cooper. She also turned off all her social media accounts.

For months, Cooper did not report to his office anymore. He is so rich that money is not a problem for him. In his quest to meet Quinn again, he went to places like restaurants and beaches, hoping to meet Quinn.

In his drive, in his room, and his solitude, he used to say, Queenie, I love you so much. Why did you punish me in this way? Please show up. Please contact me.

Quinn can hear all of Cooper’s sighs and wishes for her. He missed her so much this time.

Her microchip was working perfectly.

Cooper’s search for her intensified, but she knew where Cooper was. And she wanted to punish him even further.

Then she texted him.

Queenie Borza: Hey, I’ve got something to tell you and your father, something very important, but it’s not free information.
Cooper Bread: Thank you for contacting me. What a relief. What’s it?
Queenie Borza: About the Oramatist.
Cooper Bread: What do you know about the secret society?
Queenie Borza: Yes, the police hired me.
Cooper Bread: Well, come to our house. I’ll tell my father about it. How much do you want?
Queenie Borza: Ask your father for the price of his freedom. And I want the documents completed before our meeting. Or you will never see me again.
Cooper Bread: Wait, Queenie, my dear, a few seconds. I’ll ask my father about it.

Quinn heard Cooper racing. She was amused.

Cooper Bread: Queenie, are you still there? Half of his entire wealth, my father said. Documents ready.
Queenie Borza: Deal. 10:00 a.m. Tomorrow. Give me your address.”
Cooper Bread: “Deal.”

“What’s her name, Cooper?” asked his father.

“Queenie Borza.”

“Okay, our lawyers need it.”

+ + +

The doorbell rings…

“Who is it?”

“Queenie.”

“Come on in.”

“How do you do, Mayor?”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Queenie. Please take your seat.

“What’s your information?” asked the old man.

“What about my papers?”

Cooper pushed the cart containing the documents.

“Here they are. It’s worth two billion dollars. Two billion dollars for you and two billion dollars for Cooper. Just in case I pass away.”

“Okay, cool. Let’s trust each other. Can I trust you, Cooper?”

“Of course, you know how I love you.”

“What, Cooper? Is she your girlfriend?”

“In his imagination, Sir. I am not.”

“But I think he loves you.”

“I know. I think he does not love Sylvia.”

“Well, let’s go straight to our business this morning.” Quinn wanted to end this “girlfriend” thing. Her revenge is almost over. It’s worth two billion dollars.

“Please listen to me,” Quinn spoke authoritatively, and the old man listened, while Cooper was excited, not about the most expensive information, but about finally seeing the beautiful girl he loves.

“I’m a professional hacker and the best in this field. So the police department paid me two million dollars just to provide them with info about the powerful Oramatist. As a result, I deleted all the information about your involvement with the Oramatist. Both of you are now free men. Isn’t that cool? ”

“Thank you so much.” The old man sobbed, and Cooper was dumbfounded.

“Who’re you, Queenie?” asked Cooper. “Why did you help us?”

She was silent, motioning to leave with her two billion worth of documents.

+ + +

Quinn went silent again, never answering Cooper’s text messages. She is the daughter of a billionaire, and now she is a billionaire herself. She wanted to punish Cooper more.

Sylvia: Meet at 3:00 p.m. at the De Luxe Hotel today. Room 318. I miss you.

Cooper does not have a sexual relationship with any woman, including Sylvia, after raping Quinn. He was young and so naĂŻve to abuse a woman, causing him to have a psychological disorder called erectile dysfunction. He thus distances himself as much as possible from the girls. But Sylvia’s invitation is just so tempting. Room 318.

Quinn monitored Cooper’s text messages. As a super hacker, she could do what was impossible for others. And she got so jealous of Sylvia that she altered the message to room 618. When Cooper read the message again, it read: “Deluxe Hotel. Room 618. 2:00 p.m.” Cooper got confused at first, but it was the same message from Sylvia. So he prepared and then went to the DeLuxe Hotel.

Quinn booked Room 618 ASAP and went to the hotel ahead of time. She registered as Queenie Borza. It is her alias, and she wants to use it more often. She also changed the time to 2:00 p.m. so Sylvia wouldn’t see Cooper in the hotel lobby. She brought a sexy nightgown, and in Room 618, she took a shower and wore her highly inviting outfit.

The doorbell rings…

She opened the door, then dragged Cooper inside and kissed him.

Shock. Cooper is so, so confused. He went crazy for a second. Quinn continued to kiss him like a hot girl. She knew she was not prepared because of her rape, but just tried since she was not a total stranger to him sexually. She hoped her sex trauma would just disappear.

But Cooper stopped her. He wanted a little sanity this time.

“Why’re you here, Queenie? Did we discuss this?”

“Why? Aren’t you interested? Well, I’m leaving.”

“No, no, please wait for a second.” He wanted to cut his tongue.

Cooper loved Quinn, but in his desperation for her rejection of him, he agreed with Sylvia’s invitation. But it turned out he entered the wrong room. So he double-checked Sylvia’s text message, and it said Room 618.

“Why, why are you worried about Sylvia? Do you love her?” Quinn asked him angrily.

“No, I don’t love her.” Cooper protested.

“But you agreed to have sex with her today at this hotel?”

“Ah… ah…” Cooper stammered. He just closed his eyes, confused. His E.D. is now kicking in. He knew he couldn’t perform, and he was ashamed to be discovered. He wanted motivation, but it seemed Quinn was angry and jealous. His doctor said, “E.D. is caused either by your brain (psychologically) or your blood-starved sexual organs.”

Keep your cool, Cooper. Self-brainwashing sometimes worked for him.

Then he opened his eyes and saw how beautiful and sexy Quinn was. She was fresh, and her body was perfect.

The thin, silky, light blue nightgown did the trick.

He kneeled before Queenie, who was sitting by the bedside. “Please forgive me, my love, if you’re doing this to punish me.”

Quinn just listened, her heart beating faster than usual. She enjoyed Cooper confessing his love for her. She felt like an eagle, viewing her prey from a distance.

Please, Queenie, what happened? Why are you here? What did you do? You’re a hacker; did you hack Sylvia’s phone?

Quinn remained silent. She enjoyed turning around her former rapist’s brain. Then, after a few moments, she realized it was enough mental torture. She got her revenge paid in full.

“So,” she said in a flirtatious tone, “I want you, my love, to play with me. Please do.”

Then Cooper got heated again, and his brain got sexually out of control.

Quinn undressed and lay on the carpet, her face down on the floor, and her hands in the air with her black ring on her ring finger. And Cooper remembered the night he raped an innocent girl, and that she was Quinn herself.

He remembered his wild order for the helpless young girl to lie down; her face on the floor, and her hands up in the air, so he could rape her without seeing her face. And he wept and took Quinn from the floor and put her on the bed and said, “Please forgive me, Queenie. I was your rapist. You’re the girl, but you worked hard to free me instead of prison or even death.

“Now I know you’re the maid who killed Cassius. Why all these troubles for me, Queenie?” Cooper continued sobbing like a man stabbed in the brain by his conscience.

Quinn then wore her nightgown back without her tiny tents, opened her laptop, and showed Cooper the masked man who raped her.

“Why do you have my photograph from that night I raped you?” He asked.

“My black ring is a camera, and it recorded everything you did to me. I showed you everything. I saw you turned on so hard (and, honestly, I liked it), even the color of your mask that night.

“I didn’t enroll in college but mastered martial arts and programming instead, so I could kill you. Revenge occupied my heart all these years. And my clue was that mole of yours on your forehead.”

Cooper trembled a bit.

“Then what happened?” Cooper got so curious.

“I hacked the police database so I could have information about Eagle-5 until I discovered your secret society, Oramatist.”

“The maid with a black ring was a sharp-shooter, but you didn’t kill me.”

“Did you remember our first meeting where I kissed you? Did you remember you took a nap?”

“Yes, why?”

“I microchipped you with the gadget (I called it a talking microchip!) that I developed as a software guru. And I learned everything. I learned your raping me was part of an initiation ritual as required by the demonic Oramatist cult, for your father’s vested interest. That’s why I wanted him to pay me. I know you’ve had psychological trauma sexually, as I do. When I learned how exploited you were and how gentle you were as a person, and when I saw how handsome you were, I changed my mind. I wanted you to be mine forever—instead of killing you—as my slave as payment for your sin against me.

“Now, always remember I’m a super jealous girl. When I learned of Sylvia’s plan, I hacked her phone and edited the message. And that’s why you are here in my room. I did it because I heard you say you love me in your room every night, so you confirm that love now and make me genuinely happy this time.”

Cooper was now so horny that he couldn’t wait anymore.

“Yes, I love you, Cooper. I love you so much.” It was the first time Quinn said it to Cooper. He got her mounted gently, and she enjoyed every pleasure that only a man can give.

Sylvia got so enraged after learning someone altered her text to Cooper to Room 618. She checked the Reception, and Queenie Borza occupied it.

She called her bodyguards to prepare for action.

Cooper and Quinn got out of the DeLuxe Hotel separately to avoid Sylvia seeing them together. Before Quinn could have reached her car, three men kidnapped her and brought her to Sylvia’s abandoned warehouse. The three men assaulted her, kicked and boxed her as if she were a robber. She was hogtied and overpowered and couldn’t defend herself. Then Sylvia whipped her with a steel bar until she became unconscious. They duct taped her, locked the door, and then left.

Cooper alerted his bodyguards after Quinn failed to reach the restaurant where they agreed to dine together that night. After hours and hours of searching, they couldn’t find Quinn. Then Cooper asked for the help of a friend to trace her location through her phone number. In a few minutes, he learned Quinn was inside an abandoned warehouse. His father talked about Sylvia’s family’s warehouse often, so he rushed to the place with his men.

“Shoot the padlock,” he ordered. “Turn on the lights.”

Cooper then photographed Quinn for evidence, untied her, and rushed her to the nearest hospital.

After her recovery, Quinn vowed to fight back and make Sylvia’s life miserable. As a billionaire, Sylvia is active in charitable work, as she wanted to run for mayor. She is always in the papers and people love her. She is also the queen of social media.

Quinn hacked every database she could think of and finally attacked Sylvia Enterprises. She sent a virus which damaged all the computers of Sylvia’s business and her branches. Then, after discovering all of Sylvia’s family’s businesses, she destroyed each one of them by sending a virus to their computers, which no anti-virus software could resolve.

Sylvia’s family went to the Anonymous website, but no one could stop the virus. Then someone suggested contacting the code name HMR.

Code name Sylvs07: “HMR, are you there? Need your help.”

HMR: “How much is the budget?”

Sylvs07: “$5M”

HMR: “Sorry, not interested.”

Sylvs07: “$50M”

HMR: “No, not helping.”

Sylvs07: “$500M”

HRM: “Deal, send the money to my Swiss account ASAP.”

Sylvs07: “Copy”

“I’ll kill you, HRM!” Sylvia cursed.

Hopeless with Cooper, Sylvia started dating a handsome second-generation billionaire. Hearing the news, Quinn laughed and started uploading to TikTok her hacked video of Sylvia entering a hotel room with a man in his 60s.

The latter wanted to recover quickly from her $500M damage, so she slept with a dirty old man. And everyone saw it, including her new boyfriend, who left her suddenly (upon learning about it!) as if she had COVID-19. This time, Sylvia concluded, it was all Quinn’s revenge.

Cooper’s father was so happy for Quinn after learning she was the maid who saved him. Quinn was already frequenting Cooper’s house and slept with him regularly. Later, all of Sylvia’s businesses went down, and her family was forced to sell them to Cooper’s dad. However, it’s $4 billion and the Cooper family could not afford it. But Quinn has grown so rich now that she bought all of Sylvia’s properties, and then married Cooper.

As a hacker, Quinn learned Sylvia would go to prison if she could not pay one billion dollars to her creditors in two weeks. So Quinn weaponized the case and lowered Sylvia’s price to $1.5 billion instead of $4 billion.

Sylvia begged Quinn like a hopeless wet cat. But she could not move Quinn. She got her revenge to the fullest.

+ + +

“What’s your real name, Queenie?” Cooper asked.

“Quinn Borras. Have you forgotten the family you’ve robbed and the girl you’ve raped?”

Cooper was silent. He was forever thankful to Quinn for forgiving and even loving him.

“Quinn, may I ask a question?”

“Yes.”

“What is HMR?”

“Honey for My Rapist.”

Cooper kissed her, and she loved it.

THE END

Other Short Fiction Stories:

 
 

 
 

About Jun P. Espina

A former educator, Jun P. Espina is a family man, author, blogger, painter, Bible believer, preacher, a lover of books—passionate about many things. He believes life is good when fed constantly with the biblical truth that is wiser than what most people think. Find him on Facebook,Twitter,or at www.junespina.com.


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