“There’s something in your drink—the black girl whispered to the billionaire. The man’s hair stood on end when he found out what was there

You think she suspects anything? Maya shrugged. She’s confident. Dangerous people usually are, but she’s not careful anymore.

She thinks you’re distracted. And you were, until now. He nodded slowly.

Do you trust me? I trust facts, she said. But yeah, I think I trust you too. Oh.

The next evening, Vanessa announced she was going to a late yoga class. I’ll be back in about an hour, she said, brushing her lips against Cyrus’s cheek. Don’t wait up.

Cyrus watched her leave. Thirty-seven minutes later, the guest room Wi-Fi pinged active. She’s back, Maya said from the control room in the old wine cellar, now repurposed with monitors and signal interceptors.

Not through the front door. She came in from the side patio entrance. She’s opening the encrypted folder now.

Cyrus leaned forward. Is the tracer active? Already pinged, Maya said. She’s transmitting.

And she just inserted a USB device. She’s copying everything. Margo’s voice came from behind.

Time to call in the cavalry? Not yet, Cyrus said. We need to see who gets it on the other end. Fifteen minutes passed.

Vanessa completed the transfer. Removed the USB, and left the room. Another signal pinged.

She’d sent it off to an overseas server. Maya followed the trail, fingers dancing across the keyboard. Server’s masked, she muttered.

But it’s bouncing through Frankfurt, then Singapore. Whoever’s receiving it is high tier. Suddenly, Maya frowned.

Wait, there’s a reply coming back. What does it say? Cyrus asked. Maya read aloud, eyes narrowing.

Phase two confirmed. Final insertion tomorrow. Target destabilized.

Cyrus stiffened. Final insertion? Margo leaned closer. They think they’ve won.

Of? No, Cyrus said, a steely calm settling into his voice. They’re not even close. He looked at Maya.

Tomorrow, he said. We let them think they’ve destroyed me. And then, Maya asked.

Cyrus’s eyes darkened. Then we destroy them. The following morning began with eerie calm.

Outside, birds chirped softly across the manicured lawns of the Bennett estate. Inside, the silence between Cyrus and Vanessa felt almost choreographed. She was back to her usual charm, wearing a navy blouse and pearl earrings, as she poured coffee like nothing had happened.

You have your big meeting today, right? She asked sweetly, glancing at him across the marble kitchen island. He smiled. It felt like wearing a mask.

Yeah, just a quick overview with the legal team before the launch. Should I come by later? Bring dinner? That’d be nice, he said with practiced warmth. I’ll be back around seven.

Uh, Maya, seated quietly at the table with her tablet, didn’t look up. But Cyrus caught the barely there twitch of her eyebrows. She knew.

Vanessa was already planning her next move. By nine a.m., Vanessa was gone again to yoga. The moment her car exited the driveway, Cyrus and Maya got to work.

She sent another encrypted message. Maya reported from the basement monitoring room. But this one was different.

Smaller packet, like instructions. Cyrus leaned over her shoulder. Can you open it? Not directly, but I can mirror it and cross-reference the ping path.

Looks like it’s going to someone. Local. How local? Silicon Valley local.

Hillsboro. Cyrus frowned. Only one person from my inner circle lives in Hillsboro.

Miles, Maya said without hesitation. Cyrus felt the pressure behind his eyes tighten. Miles Wren.

His friend. His business partner. His brother.

In every sense but blood. Maya looked up at him. We’re going to need to catch them both in the act.

He nodded. It’s time for the bait. Later that day, Cyrus called Miles and Vanessa to join him for dinner at the estate.

Both of you, he said on the phone. Careful to keep his voice steady. I have something important to share about the company.

Vanessa hesitated for half a beat. Of course, darling. Miles, when contacted separately, sounded surprised…