02

KELLAN.

The moment I stepped in through the doors, I knew something was on fire—again.

“Good morning, sir. We've had multiple breach alerts since midnight,” Martins, my assistant, reported without waiting for me to ask. He had worked for me ever since my company skyrocketed, and so he knows when I'm saying or asking something, without voicing it.

Martin kept pace with my long strides as we cut across the main floor. “Three attempts on Lockra servers. One flagged as a Class A protocol disruption.”

Of course. It was always something 

I didn’t blink, I didn't even flinch. Just kept walking.

Running Lockra used to be my life's dream, now it felt less than my life ambition over the years and more like a war that wouldn't end, and also one I couldn't leave. 

I had a mantra I held on to daily— It's either I win, or I win; nothing else was allowed, and to win, I have to give My company—Lockra, my all.

Ever since we hit top ten in home security worldwide, the attacks have become relentless. Cyber sabotage, corporate espionage, and threat pings from every continent. Every day felt like I was disarming a bomb.

“Status report, get all of it and wait for me in the conference room,” I said sharply as we began to approach my office. Martins gave a quick nod and hurried off to gather the reports.

My secretary stood with his professional smile at the double doors, holding out my morning coffee. “Good morning, Mr. Langston.”

I took the cup without breaking my stride; the moment I walked into my office, the doors sealed shut behind me with a soft mechanical hiss. 

My office was a fortress of sophistication, opulence and the best luxury money could afford. The furniture was Italian leather and dark wood, of course. Minimal but expensive. On the far side was a vault that was custom-designed. It was built into the wall, holding prototypes of new tech devices no person outside the four walls of my company had ever seen.

The glass wall in front of my desk gave a sweeping view of the Capital city's skyline, It was already bustling with life below. I took a sip of my coffee, watching the city for a moment, recollecting the fact that I stood dozens of stories above the streets I once walked on. Despite the palpable tension in the company, that thought brought a small smile to my face 

My phone pinged with a new message from the real estate agent. I muted it and slipped it into my pockets. Messages and calls were distractions I couldn't afford. However, I made a mental note to reply once I got home.

I was thinking about moving out. There was this penthouse that had just come on the market, ridiculously expensive—Like every property I own, but it was a fine masterpiece, one good enough for me and Ashley.

The penthouse was on two levels with bulletproof windows, a private elevator, and a plunge pool suspended over the edge of the building. The kitchen was fitted with custom black marble flown in from Italy. The wine cellar could hold over a thousand bottles of all my favorite liquors and was fully temperature-regulated. 

That wasn't all, it had a private screening room. A floor-to-ceiling library and there was a fireplace in the master bath.

So of course, I was tempted. 

I dropped my half-finished coffee on my desk and made my way to the conference room where my team of technologists were waiting. 

The entire room stood up on their feet when I walked in.

“Sir, here they are” Martins was already placing the data tablets on my desk. “This is everything from last night. Threat source. System response. Countermeasures.”

I sat down on the leather seat at the head of the table; only then did the rest of the crew take theirs “Anything new?” I asked, skimming through it.

Martins straightened beside me. “One of our encryption was breached and originated offshore. We're running location traces, but it could be a ghost ping,” he said with uncertainty.

“Nothing is ever a ghost ping, Martins. You should know that by now” I muttered.

A headache was already throbbing in my head and I probably needed more caffeine. It was the same thing every time; some competitors or wannabe hackers would try to breach our system defenses and every time they fail.

I hadn't developed Lockra with my blood and sweat to see it fall. It was why the world trusted my technology; my home security devices were unhackable.

But to ensure that Lockra remains the unmovable bolder it is, we had to be on our toes every single second.

He pulled up a graph with red spikes on it. “We traced one of the signals back to an external device but my guess is that it's probably cloned.”

I arched a brow. Now this was getting interesting

Marcus ran a hand over his curly hair, a habit of his I had gotten used to as we worked together over the years. “We isolated the threat, and everything is fine at the moment...” he hesitated, his eyes dropping to the marble floor.

“But.....” I prodded.

Marcus slowly raised his head, his eyes scanned through the twenty-something tech personnel sitting around me.

“But it's the fourth one this quarter. And there's a...a pattern.”

My mind was running a mile a minute; I leaned back into the chair, Martins eyes met mine, and they said everything he wasn't saying out loud.

I had suspected. The threats to our systems and firewalls were getting too frequent to be overlooked.

“Lock this place down,” I ordered, surprising everyone but my assistant.

“No one comes in and no one leaves.” I took a look at the red spikes on the graph. It was a pattern. My jaw clenched. 

Lockra had grown fast. It skyrocketed, and with such speed came cracks. If I didn’t seal them shut myself, someone would tear everything I had labored to build down from the inside.

All that mattered was Lockra. Keeping it intact. Keeping it ahead and protected.

“No external ports, no transfers, no cloud syncs. Pull everything in-house” I continued to dish out orders. The room broke into murmurs and whispers.

A member of the crew tentatively raised his hand.

I dipped my chin for him to speak. 

“Umm...sir..What is going on?” he asked nervously, tugging on his tight collar.

I observed the young man for a bit, he should be in his early twenties or so. He reminded me of my younger self.

“It's Nathan right?”

His throat worked with a swallow. “Norman, Sir.” 

I intertwined my fingers on the desk. “What Is going on, Norman, is that we have a mole.”

The air was suddenly filled with tension, gasps, and murmurs.

I didn't sit to explain further; I shot up on my chair, Martins following behind me.

We worked straight through the morning. Then noon. Then evening. I needed to find the person who was trying to wreck my company from within.

All the staff were made to go through the security process.

I saw the frowns on some faces, at beings scrutinized, and their devices scanned, but I didn't care one bit.

A company like Lockra doesn’t survive off being nice. It survives on teeth. On sleepless nights, on leadership with an iron fist.

Somewhere between the bustle and the threat reports, a strange thought passed through my mind. It was too vague, I didn't know what it was, but it felt like it was important.

I’m forgetting something.

I rubbed the back of my neck, frowned, and when I still didn't remember, I pushed the thought away.

It was probably nothing.

And the situation at the company right now was more important than anything.

Or so I thought.