Quattro Minuti

Isabella’s POV

I thought I had misheard him. The man who had just saved me from hitting the floor, the man who had fired my bully with a single word, was now firing me. What kind of sick joke was this?

“Fired?” I repeated.

I thought of the empty Bitcoin wallet. I thought of the rent in Rome. I thought of the ultrasound tucked into my bag.

Dante didn't explain. He simply turned his back on me, already leaving.

“Wait!” I called out.

The other analysts gasped.

Nobody shouted at Dante Galante.

He stopped and turned his head just enough to look at me over his shoulder.

“You saw what happened.” I said, my voice gaining strength from pure desperation. “He shoved me. I didn't break the protocol. I have worked sixteen hours a day for a month. I am the most efficient analyst on this floor.”

Dante turned fully now. He took a slow, predatory step toward me. He was so tall I had to lift my neck to see him.

“Miss. Moretti. You heard me. You are fired. I decide who leaves and who stays in my company.” He said. “Don’t make me repeat my words.”

“I need this job.” I said, my pride finally breaking. “I have nowhere else to go.”

“That is not my concern,” He said as if the fact bored him. “HR will have your severance pay ready by noon. It is more than you deserve for four weeks of work.”

He turned to leave again. He didn't look back.

As I tried follow him, a security guard stood before me, blocking my way. Around me, my former colleagues looked away, eyes glued to their monitors. In the world of Inferno Tech, you didn’t mourn the fallen. You just hoped you weren’t next.

"I won't give up easily, Dante.” I muttered to myself as I turned and walked toward the elevators.

I didn't take the elevator to the lobby. I took it to the cafeteria floor, slipped into a bathroom stall, and pulled my laptop from my bag.

Dante Galante thought he could throw me out like a piece of faulty hardware. He thought a "girl from Sicily" would just take her severance and disappear quietly.

He was wrong. He had no idea what I was capable of.

I connected to the building's internal Wi-Fi. It took me ninety seconds to copy the device ID of a senior executive’s tablet. Then I slipped into their network.

I found the building's central climate and lighting control system. It was a masterpiece, but every masterpiece has a flaw. I wrote a small repeating program and planted it right at its core.

Then, I walked out of the building, crossed the street, and sat at a small café with a direct view of the Inferno Tech skyscraper.

I ordered a decaf espresso and waited.

At exactly 7:58 PM, I hit

Execute.

Across the street, the massive glass tower of Inferno Tech began to... perform.

First, the lights on the top floor started flashing in a steady pattern. Then the huge LED screen on the outside of the building changed. It usually showed the company logo, but the red flame turned blue, then green.

Inside the building, the temperature was dropping fast, turning the rooms icy. At the same time, the elevators stopped a few inches before each floor, locking the doors and trapping everyone inside.

I pulled my phone out just as it started to ring. The call was coming from the CEO’s private line, a number that didn’t exist in any public directory.

“Dante.” His voice was deep and calm, too calm for a man whose building was falling apart.

"The air conditioning is set to 4°C, Mr. Galante." I said, leaning back in my chair. "I guess your expensive suit isn't quite thick enough for that."

There was a short silence. In the background, I could hear sirens and people shouting in his office.

“Moretti,” He uttered dangerously. “Hacking a top‑level security company is a federal crime. I could send the Carabinieri to your door in five minutes, capisci?” (Do you understand?)

"You could." I agreed, watching the building's lights continue to flash. "But then everyone would know that a 'lazy girl from Sicily' brought down the most secure building in Europe. That wouldn't be very good for your stock price, would it?"

I heard a low, raspy sound. Was he... laughing?

"What do you want, Alessia?”

“I want my job back.”

“You think this little light show is a résumé, Moretti?” A chair creaked on his end. I pictured him leaning back, watching the chaos without concern. “You triggered a Level One security breach. My engineers will restore the lights and reset the temperature to twenty‑two degrees in about four minutes.”

“They will try.” I said, sipping my coffee. “But they are focused on the main systems. I hid the control override in the cafeteria’s coffee machines. Every time they reset the servers, the espresso machines send useless data back into the network.”

I heard a soft beep from his side, probably his tablet confirming it.

“You are holding my elevators hostage using coffee machines.” Dante murmured. “Molto creativo.” (Very creative)

“It’s effective.”

“It’s amateur,” He snapped. “You have left a signature trail through the HVAC sub-system. If I wanted, I could track your MAC address and have you arrested before you finish that coffee you’re drinking.”

My breath caught for half a second. My fingers curled tighter around the phone, pulse jumping despite myself.

“Then why haven’t you called the police yet?” I asked. My voice stayed level, even if my stomach didn’t

“Because I like watching people fail,” he said coldly. “You’re desperate. What you did doesn't make you an asset, Moretti. It makes you a liability. I don’t hire people who can be blackmailed by their own desperation.”

Through the café window, I saw the flashing lights of the tower suddenly stop. The blue flame turned back to red. The elevators began to move.

He had beaten my bypass. Faster than I thought possible.

“Quattro minuti. (Four minutes).” Dante said with arrogance. “Just as I predicted. You’re good, Moretti. But I am the man who built the system. You’re just a mouse who found a crack in the wall.”

My stomach dropped. I had lost.

The call ended before I could even take another breath.