"Your suspicious activity has been reported to Mr. Zeldin."
The computerized voice cut through the heavy silence of the penthouse like a scalpel, leaving Rea completely frozen on the edge of the velvet lounge sofa. The silver terminal in her hand felt impossibly heavy, its interface still pulsing with that stubborn, frozen amber warning light. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, a frantic, rhythmic thumping that seemed to sync perfectly with the emergency chimes of the room. Her skin grew cold beneath the luminescent threads of her evening gown as she stared at the main television panel on the wall, where her leaked data log remained fully exposed.
Before she could stand or try to clear the digital screen, the heavy mahogany doors of the private study slid open with a smooth,
