Alexander didn’t sleep.
He sat in his home office surrounded by three monitors, a pot of black coffee that had long gone cold, and the kind of cold fury that had built empires and destroyed competitors. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his tie discarded hours ago, his usually immaculate hair disheveled from running his hands through it repeatedly.
His security team was on standby—four men in a conference room downtown, waiting for his orders. His private investigator was running traces through every database he could access legally and several he couldn’t. His tech specialist was attempting to track the origin of the anonymous messages through a maze of proxy servers and encrypted relays.
And all of it was taking too long.
The clock on his wall read 2:47 AM. Less than twenty hours unt
