At exactly 6:59 a.m., cynthia stumbled into the sleek corridors of Voss art and medial, her heels echoing too loudly in the corridor,the city outside was just begining to wake, but inside the office, everything felt suspended in time
The office was empty — too early even for gossip, too early for for whisphers and secrets
She tightened her grip on her bag as she walked toward the executive floor.
When she reached Alexander voss office's door, she froze.
The door was slightly open.
Alexander don't let his door open
She knocked softly, softly louder than her breath "sir? "
No answer.
A unease crept up her spine as she walked toward the executive doors ,when the reached alexander The office looked… different.
The velvet curtains were drawn, casting the room and the scent of his cologne lingered, warm and expensive
A sleek black laptop sat open on the desk ,screen glowing flaintly
At the center was a flickering titled:
V-01 CONFIDENTIACONFIDENTIAL
Her heart skipped
Cynthia glanced toward the hallway left,right,Empty.
Just a quick peek, she told herself. Just one click.
She leaned closer,the screen revealed neatly arranged labeled Phase One, Phase Two, and Containment.
But before she could open one, the image distorted.
The cursor moved—
On its own.
Her breath caught.
Words began typing across the screen:
"You shouldn't have opened that."
She stumbled backward.
The laptop beeped once, then the entire screen went black.
Cynthia stared, frozen. "Okay. Nope. Nope. I'm dreaming."
She pressed random keys. Nothing.
Then her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She hesitated, thumb trembling, then opened the message.
"Careful miss brooks and face your business"
The door opened behind her.
She jumped so hard she nearly threw her phone.
Alexander stood there, expression unreadable.
His eyes flicked from her to the black laptop screen.
"What are you doing here so early?" he asked.
She stammered, "I—I was just cleaning—no, not cleaning, I mean—early enthusiasm?"
He raised an eyebrow, then walked to his desk.
When he noticed the dark screen, his jaw tightened—only slightly, but she saw it.
"Who touched this?"
"I—uh—I might have leaned too close?"
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, without looking at her,
"Next time curiosity strikes, resist it. It's a dangerous habit."
Cynthia nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, sir. I'll delete the curiosity app immediately."
He gave her a sharp look, but something in his expression softened — amusement? Maybe.
"Get some coffee," he said finally. "You look half alive."
She left his office, clutching her phone like a weapon.
But when she checked her messages again… the texts were gone.
No number. No history.
Just a blank screen.
Cynthia pressed her back against the hallway wall, breathing hard.
This wasn't normal.
Something about Voss Art and medial was wrong.
And whatever that file had contained —
someone out there wanted it badly enough to scare her into silence.
She wasn't sure what terrified her more:
the mysterious warning…
or the growing suspicion that Alexander already knew.