Chapter 8: The Agency Web

Halloway’s smile wasn't a smile; it was a guillotine. She stood in the mouth of the alley, the blue light of her phone screen casting harsh, sickly shadows over her features.

"Caught you," she purred, her voice dripping with clinical satisfaction.

Julian stepped back, his heel scraping against the wet pavement. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear the revolutionary manifesto," Halloway said, walking closer. Her heels clicked with rhythmic, terrifying precision. "So. 'Writing your own script'? That’s cute. Did you honestly think you were the first pair of vanity-projects to try and dig into the agency's server?"

Leo didn't move. He stood in front of Julian, his shoulders squared. "We weren't digging, Halloway. We were just catching our breath after your little ‘crowd control’ experiment went sideways."

"My experiment?" Halloway raised an eyebrow. "You’re the ones who signed the contracts. You’re the ones who made the brand worth millions. If the fans get a little rowdy, that’s just the cost of doing business, don't you think?"

"A stampede isn't business," Julian snapped, his voice tight. "That’s attempted manslaughter."

"That’s 'organic engagement,'" she corrected, tucking her phone away. "And look at you two. Heart rates up, adrenaline pumping, standing close enough to share a heartbeat. The cameras would have loved it if I hadn't turned them off five minutes ago."

"Why are you here?" Leo asked, his eyes narrowing.

"To remind you that I’m the director," she said, stepping into the dim light. "You don't get to look behind the curtain. You just get to perform the show. And tomorrow, we have the engagement presser. Be there at eight, or I start leaking the raw, unedited footage of your little 'cabin' breakdown to every gossip outlet from here to London."

She turned on her heel and vanished into the darkness of the street.

Julian exhaled, his chest aching. "She’s insane. She’s literally blackmailing us with our own lives."

Leo grabbed his arm, pulling him deeper into the shadows. "She’s not just blackmailing us, Jules. She’s panicked. If she’s resorting to physical mobs and manual oversight, it means we’re getting close to something that could actually burn her house down."

"How are we supposed to get into the server? She’s watching us like a hawk."

"She thinks we’re scared," Leo said, his eyes glinting with a dangerous, sharp focus. "She thinks the 'mob' worked. Let’s play the part."

"You want to go back to the agency?"

"We don't go back. We go in." Leo pulled a sleek, thin device from his inner jacket pocket. "I lifted this from the tech crew during the rehearsal yesterday. It’s a network bypass. We don't need to physically be in the server room. We just need to get close enough to the agency’s local Wi-Fi node."

"You stole a hardware bypass? When?"

"When you were busy being a drama queen about your wardrobe," Leo grinned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Ready for some corporate espionage?"

"I hate you," Julian breathed, though he followed Leo toward the street. "But I hate her more."

They spent the next two hours in a borrowed, nondescript sedan parked three blocks from the agency. Leo worked the keyboard, his face lit by the frantic scrolling of lines of code.

"How are you doing this?" Julian asked, leaning over the console. "Since when are you a hacker?"

"I’m an actor, Jules. I play whatever character the situation requires. Right now, I’m the tech guy."

"You’re a freak."

"I’m the guy who’s going to get us out of this." Leo’s fingers froze. "Found it. The internal logs for the Shadows of Valor marketing campaign. Look at these timestamps."

Julian peered at the screen. "Wait. These instructions for the 'fan mob' were sent from Halloway’s private terminal? It’s signed with her digital key."

"It gets worse," Leo murmured, opening a hidden directory. "She didn't just stage the mob. Look at the financial routing."

Julian’s breath hitched. "She’s siphoning funds? That’s not just PR manipulation—that’s embezzlement."

"She’s been playing us against each other to keep us distracted, all while skimming our endorsement fees into offshore accounts," Leo said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "She didn't want a power couple. She wanted a smokescreen."

"We have to go to the police," Julian said, his hands trembling.

"And tell them what? That two actors managed to crack a secure corporate server? We’d be in jail before we finished our statement."

"Then what do we do?"

"We use the leverage," Leo said, turning to look at Julian. His face was inches away, the scent of cedar and ozone filling the small car. "We don't need the police. We need the board of directors. If they find out their star agent is bleeding them dry, she’s dead in the water."

"And if she catches us before we can send this?"

"Then we’d better make sure we’re not alone."

Julian looked at the screen, then at Leo. The thrill of the gamble was far more addictive than the fame. "Send the file to the board’s private server. Now."

"Done," Leo said, hitting the enter key. "Now we wait for the fallout."

Just then, the car’s doors were yanked open. The interior was flooded with harsh, white light.

Julian blinked, shielding his eyes. Halloway stood there, flanked by two hulking security guards. She held a tablet in her hand, her expression one of icy, murderous calm.

"Did you think I wouldn't have a tracker on the agency's hardware?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.

Leo didn't flinch. He just leaned back, tossing the bypass device onto the dashboard. "We were wondering when you’d show up."

"Is that right?" Halloway stepped closer, her eyes scanning the screen of the laptop. "Well, boys, you were right about one thing. I was siphoning funds. But did you really think I’d leave the board in the dark?"

Julian felt his blood turn to ice. "What are you talking about?"

"The board didn't just know," Halloway said, tapping her screen. "They authorized it. It was their way of balancing the books after your 'little fight' tanked the stock price."

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper that echoed in the confined space.

"The question isn't whether I’m going to ruin you, Julian. The question is: since you now have access to the board’s secret files, are you going to join the conspiracy, or are you going to become the scapegoats?"

She gestured to the guards, who stepped into the car, pinning them against the seats.

"Choose quickly," she warned. "I need your answer before we hit the office."