Page 166 of This Life of Mine

I smile in return.

“Don’t tell him I said that.” He winks.

“Before Reese ever touched the private sector, he spent years in military cyber operations tracking people who didn’t want to be found. After that, he moved into corporate cybersecurity, where we ended up working under contract for the same firm. His job was breaking into networks. Mine was breaking into buildings and taking care of the targets.”

He takes a breath and continues.

“We went independent ten years ago when our contracts ended. I take more risk, so we split sixty-forty. Under contract, we each only made twenty percent. And now, well, let’s say we are pretty well off from all the jobs we’ve taken over the years.”

I raise my eyebrows, trying to imagine whatpretty well offmeans in Alex’s world.

I’m thinkingowns multiple passports, disappears for weeks at a time, and somehow always has access to a private airstripmoney.

Honestly, the fact that I’m even having this thought makes me want to laugh. Because what the actual hell is my life?

“Reese could probably find anyone in the world with enough time, a laptop, and his particular brand of obsession. He spends his days buried in digital footprints, shell companies, burner phones, and the mistakes people don’t realize they’re making online.”

He continues. “He has it easier than I do. Works from home. Owns a cat. Has a long-term girlfriend he’s been carrying aring around for the last six months because he’s terrified of proposing.” Alex laughs.

“I, however, typically live on the road.”

“And eventually this happened?” I ask.

Alex follows my gaze to the mask. The smile fades.

“Not immediately.” His eyes linger on the mask for a moment.

“When I first started taking certain jobs, I looked like myself. Just a man.”

I nod my head.

“People lie differently when they can see your face.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“It means most people need to find something human in you. Something familiar. They watch your face, your expressions, your reactions. They convince themselves you’re just another man.” His gaze returns to mine.

“Fear changes when they can’t do that.”

I glance back at the mask. A shiver runs through me.

“They’re afraid of the mask?”

“No.” His voice is calm.

“They’re afraid of what they can’t understand.”

The room falls silent.

Alex pushes away from the dresser and picks up the mask.

“Most bad people spend their lives believing they’re the predator in every room. They know how to manipulate people. Intimidate them. Control them.” His fingers trace the black material.

“But when they can’t see a face...can’t read an expression...can’t figure out who they’re dealing with...” He shrugs.

“Their imagination usually does more damage than I ever could.”

A chill creeps through me. “That’s terrifying.”