Chapter 5 - THE PANIC OF A PREDATORDaniel lunged across the living room toward his office door, desperate to reach his computer.
"You bitch!" he screamed, his voice turning shrill and vicious. "What did you do?! What did you do to my server?!"
Before his hand could touch the brass doorknob, the front door of our house splintered open with a deafening crash.
Half a dozen federal marshals in matte-black tactical gear swarmed into the hallway, their automatic rifles pointed downward as they swept the room with military precision.
"FBI! Nobody move!" Agent Marcus Vance roared, stepping through the entryway.
Daniel froze, his hands hovering in mid-air. He spun around wildly, his eyes wide with unadulterated terror as he realized his entire world had just collapsed.
"You can't do this!" Daniel shrieked, dropping to his knees as two marshals tackled him to the floor, snapping heavy steel handcuffs around his wrists. "This is a private home! My wife is unstable! She's delusional!"
"Shut your mouth, Daniel," I said, walking slowly toward him, looking down at the man who had traded my soul for clickbait dollars. "You forgot one crucial detail about the woman you married."
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Daniel thrashed against the marshals, spitting curses. "What?! What are you talking about?!"
"I didn't just 'do computer stuff' before we met," I whispered, leaning down so only he could hear. "I wrote the forensic algorithms your platform used to hide its IP addresses. I built the security walls you tried to tear down."
