Chapter 47: The Longest Night

 

Sterling Estate. 11:00 PM.

The phone rang. It wasn't a normal ringtone. It was the Red Alert alarm on Sebastian’s private server.

Sebastian, who had been brooding in his study with a glass of whiskey, answered immediately. "Talk."

"Sir," the head of IT shouted over the sound of typing. "We are being hacked! Someone bypassed the firewall. They are targeting the blueprints for the new Aero-Engine!"

"Cut the connection," Sebastian ordered, his fingers flying across his own keyboard.

"We can't! It's a polymorphic virus. It's eating through our encryption. If we shut down, it deletes everything. If we stay online, it copies everything."

"Who is it?"

"The trace leads to... a shell company in the Cayman Islands. But the code signature... it looks familiar."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. He knew that code. It was a variation of a banking trojan used by Vance Capital five years ago. Victoria.

"I'm locking the system down from here," Sebastian said. "I need the physical master key."

"Sir, the master key is in the vault. But the biometric scanner requires... two authorizations."

Sebastian cursed. Since the hostile takeover, the security protocol had changed. Authorization 1: The CEO (Sebastian). Authorization 2: The Majority Shareholder Representative (Harper).

He stared at the phone. He would rather swallow glass than call her. But the engine blueprints were worth billions. They were his life's work.

He dialed the number.

---

[The Arrival]

Twenty minutes later. A black limousine screeched to a halt in front of the Sterling Villa.

Harper stepped out. She was wearing silk pajamas under a trench coat, holding a laptop. Her hair was messy, but her eyes were alert.

"Where is the fire?" she asked, storming into the study.

"Victoria launched a cyber attack," Sebastian didn't look up from his screens. "She's trying to steal the engine data. I need your fingerprint to open the master server."

Harper didn't ask questions. She walked to the hidden wall safe behind the painting. She pressed her thumb against the scanner. Beep. Authorization Accepted. Sebastian pressed his. Beep. Access Granted.

The heavy steel door slid open. Inside hummed the massive black server towers—the brain of Sterling Corp.

"Okay," Sebastian wheeled himself to the console. "I'm going in. I need you to monitor the external traffic. If you see any packets leaving the network, kill them."

"I know how to handle a DDoS attack, Sebastian," Harper sat in the chair next to him, opening her laptop. "Just focus on the code."

For the next four hours, there was no sound except the frantic clicking of keyboards and the hum of the cooling fans. They worked in perfect sync. "Packet injection on port 80!" Harper shouted. "Blocked," Sebastian grunted. "Rerouting to the honey pot."

"They are trying to backdoor through the HR database!" "I see it. encrypting the files now."

It was a dance. A war. And they were winning.

---

[The Pain]

3:00 AM.

The attack stopped. The screen flashed green: THREAT NEUTRALIZED.

Sebastian slumped back in his wheelchair, exhaling a long breath. Sweat soaked his shirt. "We got them."

"We did," Harper rubbed her eyes. "That was... intense."

She looked at Sebastian. His face was pale. His hand was trembling as he reached for the water glass. And she noticed something else. His left leg was bouncing involuntarily—a spasm caused by nerve exhaustion.

He gritted his teeth, trying to hide it. He reached down to massage his thigh, his knuckles white.

Harper stood up. "Don't touch me," Sebastian snapped, sensing her movement. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Harper said flatly. "You've been sitting in that chair for five hours. Your circulation is cut off."

She didn't ask for permission. She walked out of the room and came back with a heat pack and a bottle of pain medication.

"Take this," she put two pills on the desk.

"I said I don't want your—"

"It's not charity, Sebastian," Harper interrupted. "It's asset maintenance. If the CEO dies of a stroke, my stock value drops. Take the damn pills."

Sebastian glared at her. Then he snatched the pills and swallowed them dry.

Harper walked behind his wheelchair. "What are you doing?" Sebastian tensed.

"Moving you to the sofa," Harper unlocked the brakes. "You need to elevate your legs."

"I can do it myself!"

"Shut up and let me protect my investment." She pushed him to the leather sofa. Sebastian didn't have the strength to fight her. The pain was blinding.

He transferred himself from the chair to the sofa. He groaned as his legs straightened out. Harper placed a pillow under his knees. Then she placed the heat pack on his shins.

She sat on the coffee table in front of him, watching him. The silence stretched.

"Why are you still here?" Sebastian asked, closing his eyes. "The crisis is over."

"It's 3 AM," Harper said softly. "And Victoria might try again. I'm staying."

"Staying where?"

"Here," Harper looked around the room. "In my house. Remember? I own the debt on this villa too."

Sebastian opened his eyes. "You are going to sleep here?"

"I'm going to sleep in the guest room," Harper stood up. "Unless you need... anything else?"

Sebastian looked at her. She was wearing pajamas. Her coat had fallen open. She looked soft. Vulnerable. For a second, he wanted to pull her down onto the sofa. He wanted to bury his face in her neck and forget about the war, the company, the legs.

"I need you to leave," Sebastian whispered hoarsely. "Before I say something I regret."

Harper paused. She leaned down, her face inches from his. "Say it, Sebastian." "Say you miss me." "Say you hate that I'm right."

Sebastian stared at her lips. "I hate you," he breathed. But it sounded like a confession of love.

Harper smiled sadly. She reached out and turned off the desk lamp, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

"Goodnight, Mr. Sterling. Try not to dream about me."

She walked out.

Sebastian lay in the dark, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air. He touched the heat pack on his legs. It was warm. Like her hands.

He punched the sofa cushion in frustration. He was losing. Not against Victoria. But against her.