Chapter 10 "Mr. Moore, I have an agent from the FBI here to see you." Champagne's serious voice comes through the speaker on my office phone, and immediately, I tense. Fuck. What could the FBI want? "Did we call them?" We do that from time to time when we encounter a particular cyber threat or threat actor they should know about. "No. This is an unsolicited visit." Awesome. Just what I need today. Thinking about the FBI makes bile climb up the back of my throat. MIT and Caltech have an underground hacking ring that's been going on for decades. It's a competition between the two schools, and it's word of mouth and invite-only. My sophomore year at MIT, I was invited into the ring. I moved through the rounds fast and with little difficulty, and with that, I became cocky. Stupid. So fucking stupid. I broke the rule my father had always drilled into my head. Never hack something for pride or arrogance, and whatever you do, no matter how high up it goes, never brag about it to anyone. Because that's how you get in trouble. That's how you get caught. Except I didn't listen. I was fooling around with a girl who I knew was into me even if I wasn't into her. At the time, I was desperate to prove I was over Liora, so I spent more time with her than I otherwise would have. We weren't exclusive, and I never called her anything more than my friend because I couldn't lie to her about that either. The worst part? I hated sleeping with her. She wasn't my girl, and my girl was all I thought about each and every fucking time. It made me furious. Even more careless and self-destructive. Then there was my roommate. My best friend at school. He was my freshman-year roommate, and we hit it off instantly. So much so that we roomed together our sophomore year and did practically everything together. Then one night after I annihilated my Caltech opponent by hacking the NSA's information systems security directorate, I got drunk with Sadie and Lucas, and the two of them wormed it out of me with little resistance. Two days later, the FBI raided my dorm room and arrested me. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Sadie didn't like that I wouldn't claim her as my girlfriend. Not to mention, and without my knowledge, Lucas wasn't invited into the ring despite hacking talents of his own. Lucas was jealous that Sadie wanted me and not him and that I got into the ring and he didn't. He wanted me out of the picture so he could have Sadie, and Sadie was pissed and jealous that I didn't want to draw hearts in the sand with her name in them. I spent over a week in a federal prison before I was even arraigned and let out on bail, while the FBI searched my systems to build their case. Except I wasn't always so stupid and trusting and continually cleaned my system of everything, and the computers I had in my dorm weren't the ones I hacked on. Those, lucky for me, were at Stone's. The ones the FBI confiscated had nothing on them. At least nothing that a forensics analyst could find or that was illegal. Still, it took months in court and months of fighting and months of my father doing things that put him at risk behind the scenes to get the FBI to drop their case. Essentially we moved the spotlight onto Sadie and Lucas, who weren't exactly innocent in their own right, and when some of the "evidence" showed up on their systems, they made deals with the FBI as fast as they could. I monitor them, and I'm sure they try to monitor me, but they keep their distance because I made it clear I'd not only ruin them if they didn't, but their families too. As it is, they have records and I don't, and I go to great lengths to ensure their criminal pasts are the first thing to pop up on any background check. I dropped out of MIT and became CEO of Monroe Securities, and now I look like the man who fights cybercriminals instead of being one. Occasionally the FBI comes because we have to notify them of certain cyber events. But honestly, that's been it. Other than one person whom I haven't seen in a while. The asshole who busted me. "Send them in," I reply and close out of everything on my computer and log out of my VPN. A few moments later, the door to my office opens, and in walks a dude straight out of a movie. With his dark suit, long, dark hair pulled back into a tight, low tail, and stern dark features, he says mob more than FBI. I've also never met him before, so if I wasn't already on guard by his Hollywood appearance, I certainly am by that. I stand and reach out to shake his hand. "Hello. I'm Vander Moore." "Agent Vega." "May I see some ID?" He makes a disgruntled noise as if I'm wasting his time but reaches into his pocket and pulls out his ID. Agent Vincent Vega. Is he fucking kidding? Does he not realize that everyone on the planet has seen Pulp Fiction? Now my straight out of a movie and looks more like a mob boss hits closer to home. "Thank you. It's nice to meet you." I wave to the chair in front of my desk. "Have a seat." He sits himself down, and I do the same, folding my hands in my lap and appearing not the least bit ruffled. "Vander Moore. It's nice to finally put a face to the name." Dick. His eyes are hard on mine, and I smile my bullshit CEO smile. "Is this a professional or a personal visit?" He leans back in the chair, though far from relaxed. "Let's call it personal." Hmm. "Okay then, though I suppose I'm a little surprised to see you since we didn't call you and I've never met you before. Did Agent Hopkins finally retire?" And there it is. That flicker in his eyes. He has no clue who Agent Hopkins is when Hopkins is the one who busted me and used to make house calls. He's legit the only one at the FBI who still gives a shit. And Hopkins is also far from retirement age. Last I checked, he was in DC and had been moved to the science and technology branch. "Yes. Now I'm in charge of his department." Liar. "Great. What can I do for you?" "We're just here checking some things out. It's been a while since we paid you a visit." My thumb taps my desk twice. "After all this time? I don't quite understand the necessity." "You were arrested eight years ago for cybercrimes. There were some serious allegations against you." "Yes, but as you say, they were simply allegations, and any charges against me were dropped due to lack of evidence. As someone now running that department, I'd assume you'd know this." "So you're saying you no longer commit cybercrimes?" Is he joking with that question? I stare straight into his eyes. "Agent Vega, I never was. I had been framed by my roommate and his girlfriend, who were looking to hide their own crimes. That much had been proven when the FBI looked into their computers." "So you don't know how to hack people?" Weird question. Still, I do my best to appear confused and affronted. "Hack people? No. I work to keep threat actors out of corporate systems. But truth be told, I'm a CEO. I'm not on the technical side of the company. My major was mathematics and engineering. Not computer science or anything close to it. I'm the face of my family's company and little more." "Hmm." His fingers run along the metal clasp of his belt as he studies me, trying to make me crack, and I bet he does that well. With men who have shit to sweat over, I bet that look gets him far. "We were also notified you hired two new positions." I blink at him. Because who the fuck would bother notifying the FBI of me hiring anyone? "Two?" "A Sarah Smothers in marketing and a Liora James as your new assistant." I intertwine my fingers on my stomach as I lean casually back in my chair. "Yes. Sarah started four months ago, and Liora started a week ago. What does the FBI care about that?" "We're just keeping watch on anyone who has close access to you and your work." That's another lie. In the eight years I've been here, I've hired Alesha, who is the COO and technically the second-in-command, along with several other chief positions, and no one so much as batted an eye. Not to mention I already know the FBI doesn't track my friends, and no one has closer access to me than they do. He's throwing bullshit around with the hopes that some of it will stick. "Sarah is down on the tenth floor if you'd like to say hello. I'd have you meet Liora, but she's not here at the moment." I don't tell them that it's Monday and she's at clinical. "Is it true you grew up with Miss James? That you dated her at one time." I try not to squint at him, but it's difficult. How in the fuck would he know that? No one knew we were dating, and again, certainly not the FBI. Then again, she mentioned it in our first meeting here, didn't she? Is someone on my team notifying the FBI? "When I was a teenager, I was friends with her older brother. She and I never dated." "Are you dating her now? Sleeping with her?" I laugh as if that were a ridiculous notion. "No. I'm not. And since when does the FBI care who people date or sleep with?" And that's when it hits me. I already know he's not FBI. That much is obvious. I assumed he was a lackey from a rival firm or even a black hat who managed to dox me since I take them down from time to time. But no. This is about Liora. All of this is. The other shit was just red herrings. She told the team we dated when we were kids, when that was a secret we held onto tight. Who is she involved with that would care about that? And if not her, then who the fuck is talking? My heart beats erratically, and my body pumps with adrenaline. Liora's at the hospital, I remind myself. She's safe there and then will come straight here after. But what the fuck is going on? Why are there goddamn fake FBI agents showing up at my office and asking about her? Is she inciting this? Is she trying to bring me down for what I did to her? Or is this something deeper? I haven't seen Liora since Friday, and even then, I kept my distance as much as possible, and we were professional. There's so much about this that isn't adding up. "Like I said, we're just looking into things. Can you explain your relationship with her?" I shrug. "As I said before, I don't have one. She's my assistant." "And how did that come to be?" "She was let go from the coffee shop she was working in, and as coincidence would have it, my current assistant overheard and brought her here to interview. I saw her, recognized her, and naturally hired her. That's it." "So you were simply helping out an old friend? Nothing more?" I shrug again even though I want to reach across my desk, pick this guy up by his throat, and strangle the life from his eyes. "Not everything is as sordid as the FBI likes to make it." "If you say so." He stands. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Moore. I'm sure we'll see each other again." I stand as well and don't offer him my hand to shake. "Thank you, Agent Vega. I'm sure we will." He heads for the door and leaves. Champagne meets my eyes, and I give her a nod. "Here, Agent Vega. Let me walk you out," she says without giving him a choice because I don't want the fucker snooping. I post a sign on my door telling people to leave me alone and head back to my desk. I log back into my computer and search our security footage. Our cameras are all but invisible, but they're everywhere. All over my building. It takes me two seconds to find when he entered the building and play through the various cameras that captured him. He came right up here. He didn't even attempt anything else, and security called Champagne, so he asked for me directly. Enabling Tor to hide my activity, I use a facial recognition software I wrote and start digging into Agent Vega.