My hands trembled as I held my phone, the screen flickering faintly under the dim office light. The message glared back at me, a digital threat that felt far too real:
Soon you'll regret working at Ylvis Corporation.
Each word was a hammer blow, chipping away at the fragile sense of security I'd tried to build. Fear, raw and visceral, clawed at my throat.
I turned to Ryan, my colleague, seeking some semblance of reassurance. "Ryan, look at this…"
He frowned immediately, his brow furrowing with concern. "Aubrey, this is creepy. Should we tell Director Ming? Or maybe report it to security?"
I bit my lower lip, my pulse quickening. The memory of that man—the one I'd seen in the parking lot the previous night, his hands streaked with something that looked disturbingly like blood—flashed in my mind. I swallowed hard, the metallic tang of fear coating my tongue.
"No," I murmured, shaking my head. "Not yet. I need to know more about this company first."
Ryan's brows furrowed deeper, his skepticism evident. "Be careful, okay? This doesn't feel right."
I forced a soft smile, hoping to mask the growing panic that threatened to consume me. "I will. Thanks for worrying about me, Ryan."
He smiled back, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. And I knew, deep down, he was right to worry. This felt wrong, dangerous, like stepping onto a minefield blindfolded.
Minutes later, the peaceful hum of the office shattered, replaced by a cacophony of panicked voices. A staff member burst into the room, his face drenched in sweat, his breath ragged and uneven.
"Mr. Steve, the system dropped! It's glitching!"
His tone was frantic, desperate—like someone watching their entire world collapse around them.
Steve, one of the higher-ups, a man with a perpetual sneer and a reputation for ruthlessness, didn't even flinch.
"Fix it yourself," he said coldly, his voice dripping with disdain. "You're the system engineer, aren't you?"
The staff's jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. "But Mr. Steve, according to Roque, you commanded him to operate the system early! Now everything's crashing! Why don't you care?!"
The room tensed, the air thick with unspoken accusations and simmering resentment.
Steve's lips curved into something dark and dangerous, a predatory smile that sent a shiver down my spine. "Are you blaming me?"
Before the staff could answer, a firm voice sliced through the chaos, silencing the rising tide of panic.
"What's happening here?"
Director Ming entered the room, her presence radiating power and authority. Her heels clicked sharply against the polished floor, each step a declaration of dominance. Her eyes, cold as steel, swept over the scene, demanding obedience, demanding respect.
The man tried to explain, his voice trembling, his words tumbling over each other in his haste. But Steve interrupted smoothly, his voice dripping with false concern. "It's nothing serious, Director. Just a small glitch."
"Small?" The staff raised his voice, his desperation overriding his fear. "Director, the system dropped beyond stabilization! We're talking about a complete shutdown!"
Director Ming's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What? Steve, explain this."
He straightened, feigning calm, his body language betraying his nervousness. "I didn't want to bother you with trivial issues, Director. You're already so busy—"
"Shut up," she snapped, her tone as sharp as a shard of glass. "The system is the heart of this company. You call that trivial?"
Steve went silent, his face paling under her withering gaze. The whole room fell silent, the air thick with tension, the atmosphere charged with unspoken threats.
Then her gaze shifted, her eyes locking onto mine, her expression softening slightly, but no less intense. "Aubrey," she said softly but firmly, her voice carrying a weight of expectation. "You're my only hope for this. Can you handle this… accident?"
My heart thudded against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the chaos in my mind. Accident? No—it wasn't. It was too coordinated, too perfect, too deliberate. Someone wanted Ylvis to burn from the inside, and they were using me as their unwitting pawn.
I met Steve's gaze, his eyes warning me: Don't interfere.
I smiled sweetly, a practiced expression that masked the turmoil within. "If that's what you want, Director, I'll do my best."
Steve snapped, his carefully constructed facade crumbling, his anger bubbling to the surface. "She can't handle this, Director! She's just a newbie! How can you trust her—"
Director Ming's voice turned deadly calm, her eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "Are you questioning my judgment, Steve?"
His face paled further, his body language shrinking, his defiance evaporating. "N-no, Director. I just meant—"
"Enough," she said, waving her hand dismissively, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Aubrey, go with Roque. Fix it."
I nodded, my movements deliberate, my focus unwavering. As I passed Steve, he avoided my eyes, his shame palpable. But I could feel his glare digging into my back, a silent promise of retribution.
The server room was cold and suffocating, the air thick with the hum of machinery, the red lights blinking like malevolent eyes. Roque, the staff member who had first raised the alarm, guided me through the maze of wires and blinking lights, his face etched with worry.
"Steve pushed the launch too early," he explained bitterly, his voice barely audible above the din. "I warned him, but he didn't care. Now it's overheating, and the whole system is on the verge of collapse."
"Why would he risk it?" I asked, my mind racing to piece together the puzzle, to understand the motives behind the sabotage.
Roque glanced around nervously before leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Rumor says Steve's after Director Ming's position. If this project fails under her watch—he wins."
I froze, the pieces falling into place, the picture becoming horrifyingly clear. Sabotage. Of course. It was the only explanation that made sense.
"That's why she trusts me," I whispered, my voice barely audible, my realization dawning. "He's too obvious. She needs someone she can trust, someone who isn't already embroiled in the power struggles within the company."
I started working quickly, my fingers flying across the keyboard, my mind racing to decipher the complex code, to identify the source of the virus. The problem was deeper than expected—a deliberate and sophisticated attack, a carefully crafted virus injected deep into the system's core. Someone had planned this meticulously, their expertise undeniable, their intent malicious. It was art in destruction, a masterpiece of sabotage.
"Can you handle it?" Roque asked, his voice filled with anxiety, his eyes watching me with a mixture of hope and fear.
"Yeah," I said, trying to sound confident, trying to project an air of control that I didn't feel. "But I'll need focus. Can you grab us some snacks? And maybe some coffee?"
He nodded gratefully and hurried out of the room, leaving me alone with the humming machines, the blinking lights, and the insidious virus that threatened to destroy everything.
For a moment, silence swallowed me whole, the weight of the responsibility pressing down on me, the enormity of the task overwhelming my senses. Then the door opened again, breaking the silence, shattering the illusion of solitude. It wasn't Roque. It was Director Ming, holding a paper bag in her hands, her expression unreadable.
"Take this," she said softly, her voice a gentle caress, her presence a source of unexpected comfort. Roque followed behind her, carrying two drinks, his face a mixture of confusion and gratitude. She gestured him away, dismissing him with a silent command.
Inside the bag, spaghetti and cold coffee—my favorite, a meal that Faye had often prepared for me during late-night study sessions, a comfort food that evoked memories of friendship and support.
I blinked, my throat tightening with emotion. "Director… how did you—?"
She smiled faintly, a rare and genuine expression that transformed her features, making her appear younger and more vulnerable. "I asked Faye. She said you like this. Consider it a small thank-you for your hard work."
Her warmth was disarming, her kindness unexpected. She wasn't just my superior, a powerful and intimidating figure. She was human, with her own vulnerabilities, her own fears, her own hopes and dreams. But humans break too, sometimes, I reminded myself, and power corrupts, and trust is a dangerous commodity in this world.
I ate quietly, savoring the familiar flavors, drawing strength from the unexpected gesture of kindness. When I finished, I looked up at her, my eyes meeting hers, my expression serious.
"Director Ming… how important is Ylvis to you?" I asked, my voice barely audible, my question probing, my intention sincere.
Her eyes softened, filled with shadows, her expression reflecting a deep and abiding love. "It's my life, Aubrey. My husband built this company from the ground up, pouring his heart and soul into every brick, every wire, every line of code. He died a few years ago, leaving me to carry on his legacy. I can't lose what's left of him."
A pang of sympathy hit my chest, a wave of empathy washing over me. Love that outlives death—it sounded both beautiful and painful, a testament to the enduring power of human connection. I envied her, her Connection to something beyond herself, her unwavering dedication to a cause greater than her own personal ambitions.
She noticed my silence, her eyes searching mine, her expression filled with concern. "You okay, Aubrey?"
"Yeah," I said, forcing a smile, trying to mask the turmoil within. "The system's fixed. The virus has been neutralized, and the servers are back online."
"Thank you," she said, her voice filled with gratitude, her eyes reflecting a sense of relief. "You've saved Ylvis, Aubrey. I won't forget this."
"But… there's something you should know," I continued, my voice serious, my gaze unwavering. "This wasn't an accident."
Her expression turned sharp, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What is it?"
"This was sabotage," I said, meeting her gaze, refusing to back down, refusing to be intimidated. "Someone deliberately infected the system with a sophisticated virus. Someone who knew what they were doing, someone who had access to the system's core code."
Her breath caught in her throat, her face paling slightly, her body tensing with apprehension. "How can you be so sure?"
"Viruses don't just appear out of thin air," I explained, my voice calm, my tone measured. "Someone planned this, someone executed it, someone wanted Ylvis to fail. And that someone is likely inside this company."
Her eyes darkened, her expression unreadable, her thoughts concealed behind a mask of composure. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, what she was feeling, what she was planning.
When I finished the coffee, I bowed slightly, offering a gesture of respect, a sign of deference. "Thank you for the food, Director. I'll leave you to think about it."
As I walked out of the server room, the air felt heavier, the atmosphere more oppressive, the sense of danger more acute. Eyes followed me down the hall—curious, wary, maybe even envious. I didn't care. I just wanted peace, I just wanted to escape the chaos, I just wanted to be left alone.
By seven p.m., the office was nearly empty, the workday winding down, the employees heading home to their families, their lives, their own private worlds. I sat at my desk, staring blankly at my reflection on the dark monitor, my mind replaying the events of the day, my body exhausted, my soul weary.
Ryan approached, smiling tentatively, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. "You've been with Director Ming a lot lately. Everything okay?"
"Yeah," I said quietly, avoiding his gaze, trying to conceal the turmoil within. "Everything's fine now."
He grinned, his smile widening, his eyes sparkling with admiration. "She trusts you already. You must be special."
I looked away, pretending not to hear the faint sincerity in his tone, pretending not to notice the subtle shift in his demeanor, pretending not to feel the growing attraction between us. "Goodnight, Ryan."
"Goodnight, Aubrey," he replied, his voice soft, his gaze lingering, his presence a source of unexpected comfort.
I gathered my bag, my movements mechanical, my mind detached, my body numb. I walked toward the exit, the building lights flickering as if the night itself was breathing against the glass, the shadows stretching and contorting, the atmosphere growing increasingly ominous.
Outside, my cab app blinked, indicating that my driver was arriving in two minutes. I stepped onto the curb, waiting for my ride, my senses on high alert, my guard raised, my instincts screaming.
But the car that stopped wasn't mine. It was a sleek, black sedan, its windows tinted, its presence menacing.
Before I could react, before I could scream, before I could even think, the back door swung open, revealing two figures shrouded in darkness.
A hand clamped over my mouth, stifling my cry, silencing my protest, stealing my breath.
"W-wait—!" I managed to gasp, my voice muffled, my body struggling, my heart pounding.
Too late. The world spun as I was dragged inside, my limbs flailing, my mind reeling, my body surrendering to the overwhelming force.
The door slammed shut, sealing my fate, trapping me in the darkness, condemning me to the unknown. A thick cloth was pressed against my face, its scent chemical, suffocating, overpowering.
Someone laughed, low and cruel, the sound sending shivers down my spine, the tone promising pain and suffering.
"Boss won again," a voice rasped, its tone triumphant, its message chilling.
I thrashed, struggling to breathe, my lungs burning, my body convulsing. "Who are you?! What do you want?!"
The laughter stopped, replaced by a chilling silence. A deep, gravelly voice replied from the shadows, its words a threat, its tone menacing.
"Someone who knows your worth… Lysandra Moore. You're coming with us. Boss has plans for you."
The name struck like lightning through my skull, shattering my composure, shattering my defenses, shattering my world.
Lysandra Moore.
No one had called me that for years, not since I had run away from my family, not since I had tried to erase my past, not since I had attempted to reinvent myself.
My phone slipped from my pocket, Shattering against the floorboard, its screen cracking, its light dying out, just like my last hope of escape.
Darkness bled through the edges of my vision, blurring the world, stealing my senses, consuming my soul.
My limbs went weak, my body limp, my will surrendering. The world blurred into a cacophony of noise, a symphony of fear, a chorus of despair.
Then—light. Blinding, burning, searing through the darkness, piercing my consciousness, jolting me back to reality.
The vehicle screeched to a halt, its tires squealing, its engine roaring, its presence jarring.
Someone yanked the door open, their movements rough but careful, their touch impersonal. Hands pulled me out of the car, dragging me into the cold night air, the sharp wind whipping at my face, the icy ground biting at my bare feet.
I gasped for breath, my lungs on fire, my head spinning, my body trembling.
A deep voice whispered near my ear, its tone familiar, its message cryptic.
"Aubrey, you're safe now."
I blinked through the haze, my eyes struggling to focus, my mind struggling to comprehend. The faint scent of gunmetal and leather filled the air, the same scent I'd smelled before, the same scent that had both repelled and intrigued me, the same scent that belonged to that man.
My voice trembled, barely a whisper, my confusion overwhelming my fear. "H-how…?"
But before I could finish my question, before I could demand answers, before I could even formulate a coherent thought, he pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me with a touch that sent a jolt of electricity through my body, a touch that ignited a spark of something dangerous within me.
"Don't speak," he commanded, his voice a low rumble, his tone unwavering, his power absolute. "You'll draw attention."
His tone was calm, commanding, the kind that demanded obedience, the kind that made submission feel natural. And though my body trembled with fear, something inside me—something dark, something dangerous, something perverse—leaned toward that power, craved that control, longed for that surrender.
The night swallowed us both, enveloping us in its darkness, concealing us from the world, protecting us from the unknown. He pulled me into the shadows, away from the car, away from the street, away from the danger, away from the truth.