I crossed my legs, still adjusting to the unfamiliar feeling of silky fabric against my bare thighs. Ms. DeFazio was seated across from me, her hawk-like eyes shining with what seemed like pride.
“Maddox,” she began, her tone as cold as ever, “or should I say, Madeline—that is the name you’ve chosen, yes?—I’m extremely pleased with your progress. Who would’ve thought? A mere week away from your release.”
I licked my glossed lips and tugged at the hem of my skirt, nervously flicking my eyes down to the low-cut blouse. I saw breasts. Large, voluptuous breasts. They’d become a part of my body now, yet they still felt foreign. I remember the surgeon’s cool, detached voice as he’d briefed me the night before the surgery. Explaining how he’d cut, reshape, and implant. How he’d make a man into a woman.
“A week, huh?” I forced a smile onto my face. “That’s wonderful, Ms. DeFazio.”
She nodded, her gaze unwavering. “You’ve come so far. I’m proud of you.”
Proud. That was a word I hadn’t heard in a long time. My parents had never been proud of me. Not when I was stealing cars with a hacked phone at sixteen, using malware to rob banks at seventeen, or blackmailing rich businessmen using their seditious emails at nineteen. But who the fuck cares about their opinion now? They all thought they could break me, reshape me into some obedient doll. Idiots.
“Thank you, Ms. DeFazio,” I replied, smiling sweetly.
As her words hung in the air, the memories of what she’d helped facilitate flooded back. The injections, the surgeries – the mutilation of my body under the guise of “reform.”
“Yes.” My soprano voice dripped with feigned sincerity. “I owe it all to this place. It’s been a…transformative…experience.”
A week later, Ms. DeFazio wished me well at the large, ornate doors of the facility, her smile as cool as ever. I couldn’t help but reply with my own full-blown grin. “Thank you, Ms. DeFazio. I owe everything to you.”
After I stepped beyond the school’s fortified walls, I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out a small, sleek device. My slender fingers danced over the screen, typing out a flurry of commands.
With a triumphant smile, I watched a series of numbers—numbers followed by lots of zeros—pop up on the screen. Throughout my stay, I’d been hacking into the school’s system, rerouting funds into an offshore account I’d set up. Let’s just say the school had been very generous with their funding.
And just like that, Maddox the rebel was now Madeline the millionaire. A pretty rich girl on the outside but a conniving criminal at heart.
Walking down the road, my heart pounded with adrenaline and joy. Sure, being wealthy was cool—but this was only the beginning. All Ms. DeFazio had done was give me a pretty mask to hide behind. They thought I was trouble before? Wait until they see what I’m capable of with big tits, a bigger bank account, and one hell of a vendetta.