In Milan Italy
The sun had long risen over the beautiful city. Among the sea of curious tourists venturing around the place, the streets also spotted people leaving their businesses and work places rushing to their desired food spots. It was lunch hour for most but there were others who could not leave their workplaces whenever they wanted to.
"Grazie, bueno giornata!"
(Translation: Thank you, have a great day)
These polite words echoed over a team of employees adorned in a formal work outfit and seated behind their desks in front of computers and eyes peeled on their devices.
They had on headphones as they attended to the different phone calls coming in. There was no time to relax, when one call ends, another comes in. Among the sea of ongoing conversation and calls coming in, one phone call was answered.
"BNL, you're speaking to Giulia, how may I help you?" A woman politely answered.
"Good afternoon", a masculine deep voice with a strong Italian accent resounded in her earphones. "I've just been told that money was transferred into my account but I haven't received any notification."
"One moment please", she replied and began typing away on her computer. "I need your account number."
"It's ITXXXXXXXXXXX", he responded.
She silently typed away as he detected the number. "Mr. Aldo Torre?"
"That's me", he answered.
Her brows knitted in confusion and she hummed. "When was this transaction made?"
"About an hour ago. Why? Is there a problem?" His voice was now laced with concern.
"I'm afraid there hasn't been such a transaction."
"What? Are you sure it's not a network problem?" His composure was starting to break.
She mentally sighed, afraid she knew where their conversation was going. "There is no record of that in our system."
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"That's impossible! Stavo parlando con il ragazzo proprio ora!!!" He screamed into the phone. "We signed things off not too long ago and that's a lot of money we're talking about."
(Translation: I was talking to the guy just now!)
"I'm sorry sir, the only transaction record showing right now is one from five months ago-"
"No, no, no, there must be some sort of mistake. This guy is trust worthy. Actually, we both use this very same bank. You should be able to find his information if I give you his details."
"Sir."
"Please. Questo è il pane quotidiano del mio dipendente", he pleaded.
(Translation: This is my employees' bread and butter)
Already exhausted from the work, she could not help but give in to get it over and done with. The desperation in his tone was the icing on the cake.
"What is their account number?" She asked.
"It's uh.... I wrote it down", he quickly replied. She could hear the scrambling sound coming from his background. She patiently waited and within seconds he retrieved it and detected it to her while she typed. "His name is Gabriel Russo", he added.
And without coming as a surprise, an error sign showed up as soon as she pressed enter. "The account number does not exist. I'm sorry sir."
"No, no, no, no. Check again!" He pleaded. "Or his name."
"There is no one going by that name with that account, I'm sorry sir. It's possible that you may have been scammed by this person."
"No, no, no, no, no."
She shook her head at the sound of the panic in his tone. "Sir, try to calm down. Find yourself a good lawyer, I'm sure they can help you recover your losses. This is all the help I can offer."
The only response she got was of him choking on a heartbreaking sob before the call was quickly terminated.
Another person that fell victim to a con artists. She had dealt with clients who had called victim to such crimes but till date it was still hard to be indifferent to these cases. Hearing Mr. Aldo Torre break down like that means it was a lot of money for someone who is as wealthy as he is....
Meanwhile, 'Aldo Torre' had indeed abruptly ended the call in a panic to tend to the one whose sobs was heard over the call.
"I'm sorry cupcake, mommy didn't mean to scare you!" Amy carried her in an upright position, placing her against her chest and patting her bottom.
She had become a little enthusiastic and passionate in her acting whilst butchering the little Italian she had learned off from Google. Roserie cried in her mother's embrace still startled by her mother's shouting when a knock was heard.
"Madam, it's me!" Edmund shouted.
"Come in!" Amy answered as she pushed away her laptop to get out of bed and start pacing around.
"Your breakfast madam", Edmund wheeled in the cart.
"Thank you Edmund. Ssh, ssh! It's okay cupcake, it's okay", she continued to pat her bottom.
Edmund set up her meal before excusing himself. Amy went back to bed to get her laptop then settled in the sitting area, placing the device on the coffee table. Seeing her daughter still crying, she cradled her, positioning her to feed her.
Now given her food, Roserie quieted down. Amy wiped the hot tears that trickled down the sides of her little face. She looked back up at her laptop and a little smile formed on her face. With her free hand, she started to eat whilst monitoring her laptop.
Months ago, when she had sent Dylan to Italy to spy on the Dark waters, he had conveniently sent her information on the King's second in command, Aldo.
There was not much to the man, not a lot to work with. However, there was still something she would get through impersonating him.
That fake account number she provided, it's true, it was fake. And although that's what it was, but to Amy, it meant something else entirely the moment Giulia pressed enter...
The girl was worried about people getting scammed but what she really should have been aware of was hackers like Amy. A notification sound went off from her laptop.
"I'm in", she muttered and smiled in triumph.
She looked down to see Roserie fast asleep. She fixed her blouse and carefully set her down before she went about eating whilst working on her task. She worked fast with her fingers and her eyes following every movement.
Later, when Roserie woke up with a cry, hungry and seeking her mother's attention, Amy used the opportunity to stretch her legs, feeding the little one while pacing around, still with her focus on the computer.
Before she knew it, Edmund was knocking and coming in again with her afternoon meal. She burped and put Roserie to sleep, ate and resumed work.
The day was busy for the young woman and thankfully nobody else interrupted her. She was so focused on working and attending to Roserie that she did not notice the sun set and darkness start to creep in.
She was seated cross-legged, baby in her arms, feeding her daughter while her eyes remained fixed on the computer, not wanting to miss a thing when her bedroom door swung open. Even that, she did not hear.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmZach knew this as he walked into the room. It was when he got closer that she realized his presence. She looked up from the device and smiled at him. He pecked her lips before looking down at her computer.
"Still?" He asked.
"I'm almost done", she answered, covering herself up when Roserie stopped feeding.
"Has she bathed?" He asked, referring to Roserie.
"Not yet", she replied, focusing her gaze back to the monitor.
He quietly picked her up, burping her while Amy pulled the device close to her and relaxed. Not long after that, from the corner of her eye, she saw Zach preparing to bath their daughter.
'3,2,1', Amy mused and right then, Roserie started crying as soon as her tiny feet made contact with the warm water.
"You're enjoying this", Zach complained at Amy.
"Who wouldn't?" She teased.
He glared at her before resuming his current task. It usually took a while to calm Roserie down even after she was all dressed up, that's how much she hated bathing.
Amy was glad she was not dealing with that. She fixed her gaze back to the computer, the important moment had finally arrived. She threw in a few more commands and executed them all. Finally.
..., 7%, 8%, 9%, 10%,...
Zach was done with Roserie and ready to freshen up. He went to Amy's side, handing over the little one. "Go to your-",
"Ssh!" She cut him off with a glare.
Zach took a peek to see what was so important when he followed Amy's gaze on the black screen which was fixed on a string of a percentage of numbers going up at what she thought was a snail's pace.
67, 68, 69, 70,....
"Darling-"
"Ssh!"
84, 85, 86, 87, ....
Zach watched her with concern, he wanted to remind her to breath but he could barely get a word in. He was starting to regret suggesting this idea to her.
97, 98, 99,.....