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It couldn’t go anywhere. That was the truth he clung to, even as his heart rebelled, longing to chase the freedom he’d found in those moments of passion and power. Roman Dwyer, the man who always had an answer, who argued for a living, was at a loss. And as he stood there, enveloped in shadow and solitude, he allowed himself to savor the special moment he’d shared with Caleb, the moment that had uncovered a part of himself he hadn’t known existed.
He’d tasted the sweet nectar of dominance, and the flavor lingered on his tongue, refusing to go away.
8
Caleb had always been good at compartmentalizing, keeping part of himself hidden while focusing on something else. That trait came in handy now. As much as he wanted to dwell on what had transpired between Roman and him the previous evening, he couldn’t. First, it wouldn’t solve anything because the ball was and always would be in Roman’s court. But more importantly, Caleb had a job to do. And right now, that mattered more than anything else.
Roman’s laptop had quickly surrendered to him, revealing its secrets, and with every layer Caleb peeled back, his confusion grew. He’d expected a high level of security and hadn’t been surprised to find CrowdStrike Falcon installed, a top-of-the-line endpoint security platform. Not only did it employ the most sophisticated antivirus solution available, but it also used AI to analyze the behavioral patterns of its users and, based on that, detect anomalies.
So why the hell hadn’t it done its job and kept the attackers out of Roman’s laptop? The platform was known to be virtually unbeatable to anyone other than those with insider knowledge of the system they were attacking, and even then, it would be a massive challenge. That meant the threat against Roman had come from within his network, or they were dealing with a first-class hacker. Caleb’s money was on the first.
He unlinked the laptop from the network it was attached to and dug into the settings for CrowdStrike. Surely, the system had picked up on abnormal logins, so why hadn’t it alerted the cyber security officer? Caleb checked all the settings one by one, his fingers dancing across the keyboard, the rapid clicks echoing in his small workspace.
He frowned. That was weird. That setting should be… He checked again. It was off. The platform had been installed and analyzing for threats, but it hadn’t been allowed to actually block the attacks. Kinda like an alarm system that detected a burglar but wasn’t allowed to sound the alarm. All notifications were turned off as well, so Roman wouldn’t have gotten a notification for it. But surely, the system administrator had, right?
Caleb checked the notification settings, and his jaw dropped. What the fuck? They were off! Why in the world would anyone ever turn those off? Wasn’t the whole point that you were alerted to attacks as they happened? They’d been flying blind here, the system detecting but not alerting. They’d left the proverbial door wide open.
Wait. The platform had detected and analyzed, hadn’t it? Even if it hadn’t been given permission to warn, it would still have the logs. Caleb rubbed his hands and dug in. When had the incident taken place again? He consulted his notes. Okay, he’d start on that day and work his way back, see if he could spot anything unusual.
CrowdStrike, helpful as it was, offered him an analysis of Roman’s user habits. His usual activity was between eight a.m. and ten p.m. Jesus, the man made long days. No wonder he looked exhausted, but that was beside the point.
Caleb had no trouble finding the moment the files had been changed. Whoever had done it had logged in from the office building and rearranged everything within a timespan of ten minutes. They’d deleted folders, created new ones, dragged and dropped hundreds of files. No wonder Roman had been upset about it. His whole system had been thoroughly destroyed.
What was curious was that it looked like he’d done it himself. No one else had logged in except him, using his username and the IP address from the office. IP addresses could be faked with a first-class VPN connection if you knew what you were doing, which these people obviously did. But they had to have known Roman wouldn’t log in himself, so where had he been during that time? He made a quick note of the exact time.
The hours faded as Caleb worked his way through the logs, which stated when Roman had logged in, what files he had opened, what websites he’d looked at—nothing naughty there, which Caleb had expected from a professional like Roman—and any changes to the system he’d made.
Nothing jumped out, and Caleb was getting a little frustrated when he noticed something unusual. A login at three a.m., two weeks before the file incident. According to the IP address, it was from within Roman’s office building. Would Roman really have been at work in the middle of the night? If he’d been unable to sleep, why hadn’t he logged in from home? No, this didn’t make sense. Whoever had logged on had used a VPN again and had opened at least thirty files within ten minutes—also unusual. From what Caleb had learned, Roman was focused, usually working on a few files for much longer. And all the files were in the same main folder neatly labeled Whitman.
Caleb noted the date and time stamp, then continued looking. He found another similar incident two weeks before that and then two weeks before that, and the truth hit him. They’d been checking on Roman’s progress in the case. His laptop had been compromised for months. Maybe for the whole five months the same people had been threatening him.
No fucking way would the network administrator have missed that, let alone the cybersecurity specialist who had installed CrowdStrike. Which meant… Oh, Roman was gonna be so upset when he found out. Caleb’s stomach clenched. He hated delivering bad news, and this was the worst.
With a deep sigh, he got up and walked over to Wander, who was doing his own investigation into Roman’s case. “Boss, I’ve found a problem. A big one.”
Fifteen minutes later, the whole team was gathered in the meeting room. The air felt tight and dry, but maybe that was because another snowstorm was brewing. Roman sat at the head of the table, tapping his fingers in a nervous rhythm, a tic Caleb was starting to recognize. Although his tailored suit did little to mask the concern etched into Roman’s features, Caleb loved that even here, the man dressed to the nines, like putting on armor every day.
“Caleb, the floor is yours.”
Caleb sat up straight. “I’ve finished going over Roman’s laptop. Someone has been systematically opening and reading the files related to the Whitman investigation, and whoever’s behind this has had full access to his entire laptop for a long time. We’re talking months.”
A collective exhale, a chorus of curses muttered under breaths—the responses varied, but the underlying shock was shared. Roman stopped his rhythmic tapping, his brown eyes locking on Caleb with an intensity that demanded answers.
“They didn’t just sneak through the back door once. They’ve basically been squatting inside the walls the whole time, keeping an eye on what Roman did. They had a key-logging program installed, so they have his passwords and could see everything he was doing.”
There was power in knowledge, in tracing the invisible threads that connected actions and consequences. Caleb thrived in the digital realm, where control was measured in access and codes. But standing there, delivering a blow that stripped away the illusion of security, he wished for the simplicity of a physical fight. At least then, you saw the hit coming.
Roman stiffened, the realization settling in. “How the hell did my guy not catch this?” His voice was a jagged edge, disbelief and accusation twisting his words.
“Your cyber security officer,” he said, his tone measured, “is inept at best, but I suspect he was bought. In fact, he probably planted the spyware since it’s pretty sophisticated stuff, not the level of your run-of-the-mill hacker. Every second you spent building your case was another second they had to plot their countermeasures. They knew exactly what you were doing every step of the way.”
Roman’s face paled. The implications were clear as day. In his line of work, betrayal wasn’t just a stab in the back. It was a noose around the neck. And Caleb had just pointed out the executioner might be standing in their ranks.
The man’s sturdy frame seemed to shrink under the weight of treachery, and a flush of red climbed up his neck. “Fuck!” Roman raked a hand through his short dark hair, the movement agitated, desperate. “How did I not see it? How?”
“You had no reason to suspect your team, yeah?” Wander’s voice cut through the thickening air. His presence was commanding despite his casual attire of cargo pants and a long-sleeve shirt, a stark difference from Roman’s polished suit. “No one thinks his own people are capable of betrayal. This cybersecurity person, you know them?”
Roman nodded curtly. “Joe Egan. He’s been with the office for a year, I think? Once the case started getting serious, I talked to him about increased cyber security. He promised he was on top of it, and he…” He muttered a curse. “Goddammit, he exchanged my phone for an encrypted one, or so he said.”
