"Oh my god—I'm late!"
I jolted awake, the panic hitting me like a truck.
Why did I let Blair drag me to the club last night? I couldn't sleep after coming back. I knew this would happen. She just wouldn't take no for an answer—said I reek of coffee and had the social life of a retired librarian. Like I wanted to be social anyway.
But here I am—late. Again.
When will I ever have a normal, struggle-free day?
I yanked a hoodie over my head, then remembered I had a client meeting—scratch that, hoodie off. Black fitted shirt. Boots. Messy bun. Acceptable hacker chic.
I rushed out of my room, nearly tripping over Jerry.
"Seriously? Do you have to nap in front of the door like a fluffy trap?" I groaned, giving his belly a quick rub before bolting toward the exit.
Just as I picked up my bag, my phone buzzed.
Mr. Arthur.
Crap.
I slid to answer.
"Hello, is this Miss Valleria speaking?"
"This is Valleria, yes," I said, already running down the stairs.
"Miss Valleria, I'm already at the office. Where are you?"
"Right on my way! Just… stuck in traffic. Fifteen minutes tops!" I lied with a smile he couldn't see.
I rushed out of the house like a hurricane, grabbed my helmet, and jumped on my bike. A car was out of the question—I'd never make it in time with that morning traffic. At least the bike gives me a fighting chance. And, well, I do love riding it, so that's one silver lining in this mess.
No time to think.
No time to breathe.
Just speed.
Valleria Valleria, the ethical hacker with a dangerously close relationship with her snooze button—off to save her reputation.
The city blurred around me as I weaved through traffic, the cool morning wind whipping against my face. Rain from the night before had left the roads damp, so I had to be careful—one wrong turn and I'd skid straight into disaster.
( 𓇢𓆸 )
By the time I reached Cyrixon Solutions, I was slightly out of breath, but I didn't look like a total mess—so that was progress.
Mr. Arthur stood in the reception area, looking every bit the high-level government official he was—dark grey coat, strict jawline, and the kind of energy that screamed "I don't have time for mistakes."
"Mr. Arthur," I greeted him with a smile I didn't feel.
"You're late."
"Only by a heartbeat," I said lightly, trying not to sound defensive. "Apologies. Let's step into the conference room?"
We sat across from each other, and he slid a sleek black file across the table. "What's inside this file is… sensitive. Government-sensitive. One of our secured servers was breached last night. We've tried everything, but the encryption used is far beyond what our internal teams can break. Which is why we came to you."
I flipped through the papers—server logs, suspicious IP trails, access timestamps. One thing was clear: this wasn't a random cyberattack. It was clean, quiet, and professional. Like someone had waltzed in and out with secrets no one even knew were missing.
"I'll need time to go through this," I said finally.
"How long are we talking?"
"At least two days," I replied. "This isn't a surface-level breach. If what you're saying is true, someone used military-grade methods to stay invisible. It'll take effort to peel that back."
Mr. Arthur nodded slowly. "You have 48 hours. Call me if you find anything."
As he left, I carried the encrypted drive to my workspace. Blair waved from across the room, mouthing something like "Dead yet?" I ignored her.
I slipped the drive into my laptop, but I didn't open it yet.
I wanted to make coffee first. Maybe pet Jerry again through my office cam. Maybe pretend for five more minutes that my life wasn't about to shift into something far bigger than me.
Because unknown to me, this wasn't just a breach.
It was a door.
And I had just picked the lock.