CHAPTER 6

​Vivian’s blood went totally cold. She looked at the laptop screen. 89%.

​"Check the primary terminal first," a voice called out from the entryway. 

It was Marcus. His voice was smooth, completely devoid of the panic she had felt, carrying that same flat, chilling authority he had used right before he threw her into the sea. 

"The server rack should be located behind the main desk infrastructure. If the biometrics are locked, prepare the hardware bypass."

​Heavy, rhythmic footsteps began moving across the marble foyer, heading straight toward the study. There were at least three men with him, their heavy combat boots thudding against the floorboards.

​95%... 98%... 100%.

​The transfer completed. Vivian snatched her flash drive out of the port and immediately hit the terminal command: SUDO RM -RF / --NO-PRESERVE-ROOT.

​The laptop screen flickered once, a single line of red text scrolling across the monitor: SYSTEM PURGE COMPLETE. REGISTRIES TERMINATED.

​She slammed the hidden panel shut, kicked the three leather books back into their exact alignment, and scrambled backward onto the floor just as the heavy oak doors of the study swung open.

​The bright beam of a tactical flashlight hit her directly in the eyes, blinding her.

​"Vivian?"

​Marcus stood in the doorway, his charcoal coat slightly damp from the rain, his eyebrows drawn together in a look of intense, suspicious confusion. Behind him stood two large men in black security uniforms, carrying heavy equipment cases.

​Vivian didn't stand up. She let her body collapse sideways against the leg of the mahogany desk, her hands flying to her face as she let out a loud, shuddering sob. She allowed the phantom terror of her past life to completely take over her voice, turning her words into a chaotic, hysterical mess.

​"Marcus!" she shrieked, her body trembling violently on the floor. "Thank god you're here! The... the files... I couldn't stop looking at them!"

​Marcus blinked, his security men lowering their flashlights slightly. He walked into the room, his eyes scanning the desk, then the bookshelf, before he knelt down beside her. His long, manicured fingers reached out, grabbing her upper arm to pull her up.

​His grip was incredibly tight, his fingers pressing into her muscle with a force that felt less like comfort and more like an interrogation.

​"Vivian, what are you doing on the floor?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes drilling into her face, searching for a lie. "Why are the lights off? I told you to stay in bed."

​"I couldn't sleep," she cried, letting her head fall against his shoulder, burying her face in his lapel to hide the cold, calculating expression in her eyes. "I came in here to look for old pictures of my dad. I found his digital journal on the desktop... and the files... they were full of those horrible weather charts. The freak storms. The flooding profiles. I got so scared, Marcus. I thought about the villa on the cliffs... I thought about us drowning."

​She gripped his jacket with her broken-skinned fingers, leaving a tiny, faint smudge of blood on his expensive fabric.

​"I got so angry at the data," she sobbed, her voice muffled against his chest. "I didn't want to see it anymore. I didn't want to be scared. I selected the entire local database and hit delete. I wiped everything, Marcus. The whole drive. It's all gone. I don't want to think about the end of the world anymore."

​Marcus went completely rigid.

​Vivian felt the muscle in his jaw clench tightly against her hair. The silence in the room stretched for five long, terrifying seconds, the two security men behind him shifting their weight uneasily.

​"You... what?" Marcus whispered, his voice losing its smooth veneer, a dangerous, vibrating anger leaking through. He shoved her away from him roughly, standing up and turning toward the desk terminal. "Check the network hub. Now."

​The lead security technician rushed forward, setting his heavy case on the desk and plugging a diagnostic cable into the main wall outlet. His fingers tapped keys frantically for thirty seconds before he looked up at Marcus, his face completely pale.

​"The local network directory is completely empty, Mr. Kane," the technician said, his voice shaking slightly. "It’s not just a standard deletion. The entire root registry has been wiped clean. There’s no data left to pull."

​Marcus turned slowly to look back at Vivian, who was still curled on the floor, her shoulders shaking as she pretended to weep into her hands. His eyes were wide with a savage, silent rage. If they had been alone in the middle of the ocean, she knew he would have killed her right then and there.

​But they weren't in the ocean. They were in her family's penthouse, surrounded by licensed security professionals who still legally answered to the Vance estate.

​Marcus took a deep breath, forcing his chest to rise and fall as he smoothed the front of his jacket. He walked back over to her, kneeling down again and lifting her chin with two fingers. His touch made her skin crawl, but she kept her eyes wide, watery, and completely vacant.

​"It's okay, darling," Marcus said, his voice dripping with a fake, forced sweetness that made her stomach turn. "You're just stressed. You did what you had to do to feel safe. Come on, let's get you back to bed."

​"No," Vivian whispered, drawing her legs up to her chest. "I don't want to stay here tonight. The apartment feels too big. It feels empty. I want to go to the commercial sector... near the design offices. I have a small studio apartment there. It’s small. It feels safer."

​Marcus’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he let go of her chin, standing up and dusting off his knees. He didn't care where she slept tonight, as long as she wasn't interfering with his setup at the villa. Now that the primary data was gone, he needed to focus entirely on physical logistics.

​"Fine," Marcus said flatly. "Take your car. My men will stay here to secure the penthouse infrastructure. I’ll call you in the morning, Vivian."

​He didn't wait for her to answer. He turned his back on her, gesturing for his men to start packing up their equipment.

​Vivian dragged herself to her feet, her legs feeling like lead as she walked out of the study and into the private elevator. The moment the steel doors slid shut, cutting off the view of Marcus's charcoal suit, the fake tears dried instantly on her face. Her expression turned to pure stone.

​She took the elevator straight down to the third level of the underground garage.