Tempting The Forbidden

Behind Firewalls and Lies.

(Elara)

Morning soon came after I spent the night tossing and turning in my bed. I groaned as I felt the sunlight pierce through the glass windows. I hadn't slept much. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw lines of code unraveling, alerts flashing red, Damon’s voice echoing down the hall: “She can’t know.” Whatever calm I had found here was gone. It was replaced with something that made the hairs at the back of my head stand. Fear.

Someone had broken into my system last night, and he or she knew exactly where I was and how to find me.

I sat by the edge of the bed and opened my laptop, eager to find out if I could do some damage control. My code was blinking at me from my screen as if I hadn't been breached last night. Everything looked perfectly normal as I scrolled through my files making me wonder if all that happened last night was just a dream.

Someone had tried to get in.

Not just snoop around. No, they had tried to hack my code, trace my searches. It wasn’t random. Whoever it was knew what they were doing and they knew what I was looking for.

I couldn't tell Damon, not yet. I was already locked inside this mansion. Who knew where he might take me if he finds out about this?

Besides, he was hiding something from me so I was allowed to have a little secret of my own.

After he had disappeared with the stranger last night after dinner, he shut me out with nothing but a look. I had caught the edge of their conversation near the wine cellar as they spoke in low voices. Something about “the files being compromised” and “a message left in the system.”

Damon’s voice rang in my head again, cold and tense: “She can’t know.”

I sighed and headed into the bathroom for a shower. Surely that would help clear my head a bit.

The warm water fell onto my skin and I moaned at the contact before pouring some shampoo into my hair. I tried to wash away the tension, the questions, the chill that refused to leave my spine. But even under the comfort of heat, I couldn’t stop replaying what I’d heard. She can’t know.

I stepped out of the bathroom and dried off my body. I slipped into a comfortable grey hoodie and joggers. I tied my wet hair up into a bun, ready to start my day.

By the time I got to the kitchen, Damon was already there. He stood by the coffee maker, pouring coffee into two mugs like it was any other normal morning. He seemed calmer than I wanted him to be.

His eyes landed on me as I settled onto a stool. They lingered on me a bit but I didn't mind.

“Good morning,” he greeted with a voice that was still rough from sleep.

I offered him a small nod, forcing a small smile onto my face. “Morning,”

He slid a mug across the counter toward me. “Sleep okay?”

“Not really.” I wrapped my fingers around the mug, mostly to hide how cold they were. “Weird dreams.”

His gaze sharpened. “About what?”

I shrugged. “I don’t even remember. It was just… unsettling.”

He watched me too closely. I sipped the coffee, holding his stare, pretending I didn’t hear the worry in his silence.

“Anything you want to talk about?” he asked carefully.

“Nope.” I let out a light laugh. “It’s probably just all the recent chaos catching up to me and sucks not being able to go to school. I could sure use a little distraction from all this.”

His jaw ticked, but he nodded. “Understandable but, I have good news,”

Those words of his piqued my interest and I shot my head almost immediately. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You should be able to attend lectures soon. I have been working tirelessly to find out the people reasonable dot this,”

“Hmm,” was all I managed to make out. When he said he had good news, I expected to hear that I didn't have to be locked up here like a prisoner.

“Well, I hope that works out soon. I need to get my life back,” I replied.

The room went silent except for the silent sips from both of us. Neither of us had anything left to say.

I excused myself a minute later, taking my coffee with me as I headed back to the bedroom. My laptop was still open. I double-checked the trace file I’d saved. The data was still intact. I scanned the IP address again. It was masked by proxies, but I was good. I could follow trails that most people didn’t even know they left behind.

One of the proxy paths was rerouted through an address that raised every alarm in my system.

It belonged to a private server used by a cybersecurity firm.

And not just any firm, this one had government contracts.

My heart began to spike. Who the hell had I gotten the attention of?

I opened a blank text file and started logging every trace, every redirect, every suspicious signal that came through. I encrypted it immediately and buried it under layers of apps.

I decided to connect to a dark web platform, carefully hiding my IP. I dropped a random question under a ghost alias, asking about a breach signature similar to mine. A few minutes passed. Then one reply popped up.

“You’re being watched. Get out.”

I stared at the screen while my hands trembled.

Another ping.

“You don’t belong in that house.”

I backed out instantly, shut down everything, and wiped the log.

Someone had eyes on me. And worse, they knew where I was.

Whatever was happening was bigger than my family, this was no ordinary attack.

Whoever was behind the attack on my birthday party had somehow hacked through my systems, located me, and somehow had access to my Hope project.

One question burned in my mind as I tried to calm my trembling self.

What had my father done and what did it have to do with my project?