The FBI Billionaire

Episode 3 AI Defense Code Missing

Kristen arrived at her apartment but didn’t go in. Instead, she sat on the weather-worn doorstep, the cool breeze doing very little to settle her mind. She found herself reflecting on why she had gone to that restaurant in the first place. Her thoughts drifted to the man she had collided with. In her entire life, she had never slammed into a man like that. It felt weird. She felt weird. The scent of his cologne—something like sandalwood, expensive leather, and old money, lingered in her nostrils as if he were still standing right behind her.

Finally, she shook it off, headed inside, and freshened up. She scooped a quick bowl of cereal and resumed her action film. Her phone beeped—a message from Ashley asking why she’d dashed out so abruptly. Kristen typed back a quick, apologetic reply, and they drifted into a steady chat while the movie played in the background. The conversation was a lifeline, pulling her away from the memory of the baritone voice in the restaurant. Eventually, she didn’t make it to the end of the movie; she crawled into bed and drifted off to the hills of England in her dreams.

Three hours later, a sharp tap-tap against the glass window shook her awake. Kristen’s eyes snapped open, her FBI instincts making her reach for a weapon that wasn’t there. She crept toward the window, her heart hammering, only to find a small face peering back at her. It was Mira, her neighbor’s six-year-old daughter.

“Awwn, how are you Mira?” Kristen asked, sliding the window open.

“I’m fine, Aunt Bell,” the little girl answered.

Kristen looked at the child, puzzled. She wondered what the child was doing at her window. “Where are your parents?”

“A-wayyy,” Mira replied, stretching the word out with childhood innocence.

“Away? You’re alone?” she questioned

“Yes ma,” Mira looked up wide eyed.

“Wait for me okay? I’m coming to get you.” Kristen hurried to meet her outside, ushered her in, and put on a cartoon. When she asked if Mira would like to eat something, the girl gave a very specific request—chocolate and a sandwich. Amused by the odd request, Kristen retreated into the kitchen. She began prepping a filling of crispy bacon, shredded cabbage, and a generous dollop of mayonnaise with a pinch of black pepper.

Mira popped into the kitchen. “Please Aunty, I want some lemonade too.”

“Okay dear,” Kristen smiled, ushering her back to the TV. Soon, she emerged with a tray holding the sandwich, a bar of chocolate, and a small glass of lemonade. Strange combo, she thought as she watched Mira eat. Her subconscious poked at her—what if you could have your own daughter soon?

Whattt? Not now! she hissed silently to herself, shaking the thought away.

When Mira was finally done eating, she dropped her plates on the kitchen counter and climbed the stairs leading to Kristen’s room.

“Aunty Bellll!” she screamed.

Kristen jumped, her heart hammering against her ribs. She ran out the door, only to find the girl standing safely just past the bedroom door, grinning. She exhaled in relief, led her back down, and did the dishes to calm her nerves.

Later, they settled in for Mira’s favorite cartoon, and as soon as the girl was about to sleep, she spilled the truth; that her mother was ill and her father had rushed her to the clinic. Kristen felt a pang of sympathy, stroking the girl’s hair until she fell asleep. She felt a strange, lovely warmth as Mira slept against her chest.

***

It was 6:00 PM—time for Kristen’s favorite show. She was just reaching for the remote to switch the channel…

Knock knock.

She carefully settled Mira on the plush cushions and answered the door. It was Mira’s father, looking exhausted but relieved.

“Good evening sir. Welcome,” Kristen greeted.

“Good evening, Bell. Thank you for taking care of our daughter.”

“It’s nothing sir,” she said, wondering how he knew Mira was there.

“The woman to the left informed us,” he said, answering her unspoken thoughts.

“Ohh,” she said. “How’s your wife doing?”

“She’s well now, thank you. Just a scare,” he thanked her again and carried the sleeping girl home.

The silence that followed was short-lived, as Kristen’s phone erupted in a loud, demanding ringtone. Without looking at the caller ID, she answered, assuming it was her friend.

“Hey Ash—“

“Good evening, FBI,” a man’s rumbled voice interrupted.

Kristen pulled the phone away, the name MIKE staring back in bold letters. Oh, shoot.

“Oh, hey Mike. Good evening.”

“Who’s Ash?” he burst into laughter. “I’m not your bestie bro.”

“Whatever,” she sighed, rubbing her temples. “What’s up, Mike?”

“Good question,” he noted. “There’s a major case on the ground. I fear you’ll have to end your vacation anytime soon.”

Noo! “Really? Any clues on what we’re dealing with?” she asked.

“Think we’ve got some,” Mike paused. “The state’s AI Defense Code has been compromised. Stolen to be precise.”

Kristen’s blood ran cold. “Who would dare steal something like that? That’s a suicide mission.”

“A financial predator,” Mike said, his voice turning stern. “He’s dangerous, Kristen. I’m sending the file to your encrypted tablet now. Keep it secure.”

“Noted,” Kristen replied.

She hung up, her mind racing—The AI Defense Code? What would a fraudster want with military grade encryption? She opened her tablet and watched the progress bar as the file downloaded. When the image appeared, Kristen stopped breathing. Her grip tightened on the tablet until her knuckles turned white.

“It’s… him! The Prince Charming from the restaurant!!” She screamed, her voice vibrating at a high frequency.

He has a name, her subconscious hit her. She scanned the data meticulously, her eyes landing on the name written in terrifying capital letters—ALEX HUNTER.

That’s the name he was about telling you before you walked away, moron.

“No. That’s not it!” she scolded herself out loud, pacing the living room. “It’s not him. That man looked wealthy, sophisticated… this one looks like a monster. He’s just averagely rich,” she argued with all certainty. “He can never be the same person.”

She darted at the screen again. “Does this mean I’ll have to end my vacation?”

Alex’s image on the screen seemed to mock her, his eyes knowing, his lips curled into a phantom smirk. You haven’t even started enjoying your leave yet.