I glanced at the market ticker moving across the enormous screen in my office, my stomach twisting into knots. The stats didn't lie—Blackwood Enterprises was in freefall.
"What the hell is going on?" I mumbled, running a hand through my hair.
My phone buzzed, and Jake's name flashed on the screen. I said, "Tell me you have good news."
"Sorry, man. It's getting worse. Twitter's blowing up with stories regarding insider trading at Blackwood."
I cursed beneath my breath. "That's impossible. We run a tight ship here."
"I know, but perception is reality in the stock market. We need to do something fast."
I ended the call and paced my office. This can't be happening. Not now. Not when I had greater things to deal with — like finding a wife in less than a year or losing everything.
A knock on my door halted my spinning thoughts. "Come in," I barked.
My assistant, Sarah, walked in, her face pallid. "Mr. Blackwood, the board is asking for an emergency meeting. They're... they're talking about a vote of no confidence."
The room swirled. I grasped the edge of my desk to steady myself. "When?"
"Tomorrow morning, sir."
I nodded, dismissing her. As soon as the door closed, I sank into my chair. This had to be sabotaged. But who? And why now?
My eyes fell on the portrait of my father hanging on the wall. His severe glare seemed to burrow into me, judging. "I won't let you down, Dad," I whispered.
I turned on my computer and started digging. Financial data, press releases, internal memos - I searched over everything, looking for any hint of foul activity. Hours ticked by, my eyes burning from gazing at the computer.
Then, something drew my eye. A succession of modest, seemingly benign transactions are buried in our quarterly reports. Individually, they were nothing. But together...
"Shit," I breathed. Someone had been siphoning funds, little by little, for months. It was ingenious, I have to say. But who has the access and knowledge to carry this off?
I picked up my phone to call our head of security when an email notice popped up. The sender was unknown, the subject line blank. My finger hovered over the delete button, but curiosity won out. I opened it.
The telegram comprised only four words: "Like father, like son."
A chill raced down my spine. What did that mean? Before I could ponder it further, my screen flickered. Lines of code flowed across it quicker than I could read. I tried to close the window, but nothing responded.
"No, no, no!" I banged my fist on the desk. Whatever was occurring, it was tearing through our firewalls like they were tissue paper.
I grabbed my phone again, this time phoning our IT department. "We're under attack! Lock down everything now!"
But it was too late. My screen turned black, then lit up with a message: "Access granted."
My heart beat as I stared helplessly. File after file opened before my eyes — private contracts, employment records, and financial data. Our entire system was exposed.
Then, as soon as it started, it ceased. My computer restored to normal, as if nothing had happened. But I knew better. We'd been breached, and I had no idea what they'd stolen or what they meant to do with it.
I sat back in my chair, my mind whirling. This was a disaster. If word of this got out, our stock would collapse much lower. The board would have my head.
I needed aid, but who could I trust? The breach had to have originated from inside. Someone with extensive understanding of our systems.
My father's words resonated in my head: "In times of crisis, look to those who have nothing to gain and everything to lose."
I sat up upright. There was one person who suited that description. Someone great with technology but entirely outside our corporate structure. Someone who had no stake in Blackwood Enterprises... yet.
I took up my phone and phoned a number I hadn't used in years. It rang three times before a recognizable voice answered.
"Hello?"
I took a deep breath. "Mia? It's Dylan. I need your help."
There was a long delay. I could practically hear her evaluating her options. Finally, she spoke. "What's wrong?"
"I can't explain over the phone. Can you meet me? Now?"
Another pause. "Where?"
I gave her the address of a little, out-of-the-way café. "Please, Mia. It's important."
She sighed. "Fine. Give me an hour."
I hung up and grabbed my jacket. As I headed toward the door, my phone buzzed with another email. My blood turned cold as I read it:
"Ticktock, Mr. Blackwood. Your time is running out."
I hastened my pace. Whoever was behind this, they weren't only after the firm. They were after me.
The café was practically deserted when I arrived. I grabbed a booth in the back, my eyes continually scanning for any signs of menace. When Mia walked in, I almost didn't recognize her. Gone was the awkward youngster I remembered. In her place was a confident, striking woman.
She slid into the booth across from me, her eyes cautious. "Alright, Dylan. What's this about?"
I leaned forward, keeping my voice quiet. "Blackwood Enterprises is under attack. Someone's trying to destroy all my father built, and I worry they're coming for me next."
Mia's eyebrows shot up. "And you called me because...?"
"Because you're the best hacker I know," I said bluntly. "And right now, you're the only person I can trust."
She sat back, crossed her arms. "Wow. The amazing Dylan Blackwood needs my aid. Never believed I'd see the day."
I gritted my teeth. "Mia, please. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't serious."
Her expression softened slightly. "What do you need?"
I pulled out a flash drive and slid it over the table. "This is all I've found thus far. Suspicious transactions, the code from the hack, everything. I need you to trace it, find out who's behind this."
Mia took up the drive, turning it over in her palms. "This is risky, Dylan. If someone's actually out to get you..."
"I know. But I have no one else to turn to." I met her gaze. "Will you help me?"
She kept my eyes for a long while, then nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
Relief flooded over me. "Thank you."
As Mia stood to depart, a glimmer of metal grabbed my attention. I turned just in time to see a man in a dark coat lift a rifle, pointing it directly at us.
"Mia, get down!" I yelled, lunging across the table to tackle her to the ground.
The sound of cracking glass filled the air as the window behind us exploded. Screams erupted from the few other patrons. I covered Mia with my body, feeling her trembling beneath me.
"Are you okay?" I inquired hurriedly.
She nodded, her eyes wide with horror.
I risked a glimpse over the edge of the booth. The gunman was gone, leaving only chaos in his wake.
As sirens wailed in the distance, one thing became crystal clear: this was more than corporate sabotage. Someone wanted me dead. And now, I'd dragged Mia into the sights.
What have I done?