“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

Together? That’s unusual. You’ll see why, Cyrus replied. Bring a bottle of that pinot you like.

As evening approached, the stage was set. Maya and Margo had worked with Cyrus to wire the dining room and office with high-definition video and audio. Every entry point was monitored.

Every device Vanessa or Miles might try to use had been replaced with replicas leading to firewalled traps. At 6.58 p.m., Vanessa arrived first, dressed elegantly in a gray-fitted dress. She greeted Cyrus with a kiss that didn’t linger.

You seem tense, she said, brushing his lapel. Just big company nerves, he replied, leading her inside. Moments later, Miles pulled up in his black Porsche, stepping out with his usual charisma, a bottle of wine in hand.

Hope I’m not interrupting a romantic evening, he joked. Cyrus grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. Not at all.

Come on in. Dinner was served in the glass-walled atrium, with the sun setting in amber streaks beyond the pines. Margo placed dishes with practiced gracer hands steady, her eyes sharp.

The conversation began lightstocks, sports, the weather, but underneath it all, every word was a layer in the trap. Tell us, Vanessa said at last, crossing one leg over the other. What’s this news? Cyrus leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine.

I’ve made a decision about the prototype. I’ve decided to fast-track its release and name the new encryption protocol after my father, the Edward Cipher. Uh, Vanessa blinked.

You never mentioned that. I just decided, he said. Last night, Miles looked vaguely uncomfortable.

Well, that’s quite the shift, Cyrus smiled. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about legacy. Who I can trust.

Who’s actually standing with me. There was silence. Vanessa’s fingers tightened slightly around her wine glass.

And that’s why, Cyrus continued. I’ve asked the FBI to audit the entire digital pathway of our prototype, just to make sure everything’s clean. Another pause.

A long one. Vanessa’s voice was the first to break it. That seems… dramatic.

Is it? Cyrus asked, eyes steady. Or is it just overdue? From the hallway, Maya monitored everything through the tablet in her lap. She caught at the shift in Vanessa’s posture.

The flicker in Miles’s gaze. The subtle panic that neither of them spoke aloud. They’re nervous, she said softly to Margo, who stood behind her.

Good, Margo whispered. Let them stew. Back in the atrium, Vanessa set down her glass.

Cyrus. I think we need to talk. Privately.

Why? He asked. Something you don’t want Miles to hear? Miles coughed into his fist. Maybe this isn’t the time.

Cyrus turned cold. No. I think it is.

In fact, I’d like to show you both something. He led them into the study. On the large screen, a video began to play.

It showed Vanessa earlier that week standing in the guest room. Uploading files. Then, another clip.

Miles at the office. Inserting a USB drive into Cyrus’s personal terminal. The footage was time stamped.

Crystal clear. Vanessa’s face palette. Miles took a step back.

Cyrus turned to them. I trusted you. Both of you.

And you used my home, my systems, my life as your playground. Vanessa’s mask dropped. The smile dissolved.

Her voice dropped an octave. You think you’ve got everything figured out? I think I’ve got enough. Cyrus said.

Behind them. The study doors opened. Two agents entered plainclothes.

Badges already out. Vanessa Quinn. Miles Wren.

You’re under investigation for conspiracy, fraud, and violation of federal cybersecurity laws. Neither resisted. As the agents cuffed them.

Maya entered silently and stood by Cyrus’s side. Vanessa looked at her with something between fury and disbelief. It was you.

She hissed. Maya stared at her, unflinching. You should have been more careful where you put your microphones.

Vanessa didn’t speak again. As they were let out. Cyrus felt the weight lift from his chest.

Not joy just a release. A terrible relief. He turned to Maya.

You saved me. She shook her head. You saved yourself.

I just told the truth. He looked at her. Really looked at her.

That’s all it ever takes. Isn’t it? Someone to finally listen. Uh.

That night. Long after the doors closed and the house returned to silence. Cyrus stood in the study and poured himself a glass of untouched juice.

He didn’t drink it. He just looked at it. And smiled.

The morning air was unusually crisp. As if the storm from the night before had swept away every trace of pretense in the Bennett estate. Cyrus stood by the window of his study.

His silhouette dark against the early sunlight breaking through the tall pines. In his hand was the same glass of untouched juice from the night before. He hadn’t thrown it away.

He couldn’t. Not yet. Downstairs the house had shifted back to a slower rhythm.

No more Vanessa’s heels clicking on the hardwood floors. No more sly phone calls. No more carefully planned lies disguised as daily routine.

In the kitchen, Maya quietly made breakfast with Margo. Eggs, toast, and hash browns the kind Ms. Thelma used to make for Maya on Sunday mornings in Detroit. She wanted to offer something grounding.

Something real. Margo placed a cup of black coffee on the table and looked over at the girl with warmth. You did something big last night Maya.

Maya didn’t look up. She stirred the eggs slowly. I just told the truth.

That takes more courage than you know. Maya finally looked up. Her eyes were tired but steady.

Do you think he’s angry at me? Margo paused. Then shook her head. Number I think he sees you clearer now than ever.

Um. Upstairs. Cyrus’s phone rang.

He answered it with a heavy breath. Mr. Bennett. This is Special Agent Lori Jensen.

Just following up. I’m listening. Vanessa and Miles are both in custody.

We’ve begun searching Miles’ properties. The digital evidence you provided plus the footage will fast track the charges. But.

There’s more. Cyrus turned toward the desk. Go on…