The email notification was still glowing on my laptop screen when I felt the blood drain from my face.
And below it, my own hacked financial statements.
I stared at the attachments so long that the numbers blurred. My name. My accounts. My signatures. Altered. Manipulated. Weaponized.
Daniel stood beside me, jaw tight, hands braced on the edge of the table. “He’s accelerating the timeline,” he murmured.
I couldn’t look away from the documents. “He wants to bury me.”
“He wants to bury both of us,” Daniel corrected softly.
But only one of us was already halfway in the ground.
I closed the laptop, forcing steady breaths. “We have to get ahead of this.”
Daniel nodded once, grim. “We will.”
I wished I still knew what we meant.
Before either of us could speak again, my phone vibrated s
