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The truth wasn’t quite as innocent as that. But the less they knew, the better. By the time Flynn had spoken with Ezra, I’d been at it for nearly thirty-six hours straight, trying to crack the Reserve Bank’s firewalls. I finally found a way in, and it was enough to open up the pathway for me as if they’d given me the keys to the vault. But, the information I wanted was only available direct from the server in Sydney if I wanted it anytime soon. The encryption used at the bank was high quality; it would be quicker for me to break into the bank itself rather than going through the servers. So, I’d diverted my attention to that. Was there a way I could get into the server room? Did they do public tours that would get me close enough so I could sneak off? Could I pose as someone with security clearance? Turned out, getting into the building was easier than I’d anticipated.
Except that I needed to be quick, and running a brute force attack to break the password of the door to the server room wouldn’t be quick.
That’s where the password registry came in. I hadn’t expected to find it in a spreadsheet wrapped up in a neat little bow. Of course, I hadn’t, quote, “stumbled” across it and promptly guessed the password either. That bit was exaggerated. It had actually taken hours of sustained attacks to force my way past their defences.
But found one I had. It was their accounting software. I discovered a thread which unravelled the more I tugged on it, care of whitelisted ISPs, until there was an opening big enough for me to slip into. I found a list of employees and their ID numbers. It was only a hop, skip, and a jump from there into their wider system.
I’d struck gold.
After that, it was as simple as reprogramming their website to create the link I’d apparently stumbled across.
Setting up the fake profile on the dark web, untraceable back to me, was easy. So was posting in the forums to manufacture the threat. It was a challenge other hackers couldn’t refuse—the replies were all legit.
“So did you get what you needed from the server?” Flynn asked.
“I didn’t download anything,” I lied again. I hating doing it, but it was for the greater good. Tristan had already served time for being an accessory after the fact. If I divulged any hint of illegality, I was putting him in precisely the situation I’d promised him protection from.
My lie was a necessity.
Shaking my head, I explained, “In basic terms, I used my computer to communicate with the server to pinpoint the weakness in their system. Then I uploaded the patch from the USB stick. I could have done it directly, but I wanted to screen record exactly what I was doing. I figured I might run into some challenges, so I wanted Ezra and his team to know where I’d been. That’s it.”
It wasn’t, but again, they were on a need-to-know basis, and they didn’t need to know. In truth, I’d downloaded every piece of data I could get my hands on so that I could keep going with my research. The data was safe and sound on my laptop that the police had very kindly returned to me.
They’d been hoping for a jackpot—gigabytes of information that they could confiscate—but there wasn’t a single bit. It was for good reason too. I wasn’t stupid enough to make a mistake like that.
The login I gave them—Morningstar—activated a honeypot protocol that was a clone of my hard drive with entirely fake information, including a squeaky-clean browser history. Anyone using that password would see only what I wanted them to. The clone would stay active until I disabled the protocol, then my computer would revert to my own. My data was simply compressed and waiting for me to access it.
I’d originally designed the security measures as a hypothetical. It likely wouldn’t hold up on detailed analysis of the actual hard drive—eventually the fact that it was a clone would be found—but a simple mirror of the hard drive like the tech had done wouldn’t copy across the hidden sectors.
Ry raised his brow, disbelief written all over his face. Silently I begged him not to push, not to press me for any more information. He opened his mouth to respond, but his phone buzzed simultaneously.
“Dinner’s here.”
Nine
Zali
W
e all dug into the pizzas when Ry set them atop the coffee table. Carbs and cheesy goodness were exactly what I needed. He knew me well.
“Ezra’s here,” Ry explained with a mouthful of supreme, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to point at the dock.
Tristan put his slice down, and with a small smile, wiggled out from under Flynn and me, then went straight over to the stairs. He disappeared down them at a jog. I could hear murmured voices and the lap of water against the hull as our conversation ceased, and I craned my neck to try to listen better.
My heart was in my throat. Knowing we needed to have the conversation didn’t calm my nerves. I was daring to hope. I’d already had a win—I still couldn’t believe that Tristan had come back—but was it too much to ask for?
I also had to hear Ezra’s side of what went down first. I needed to know the whole story. Could I trust him? I thought I could, but there were too many loose ends and too many coincidences for me to let my guard down yet. It wasn’t even really about me. I was more worried about making sure my guys—Tristan, Flynn, and Ryder—were protected. As much as I wanted to strip Ezra down and sit on his face, I would walk away in a heartbeat if it meant keeping my guys safe from a mole.
Tristan was practically dragging Ezra up the stairs when they finally popped up. My breath caught in my throat. This was what I wanted. All of them. My men.
Ezra had one hand stuffed in the pocket of his ripped jeans, those thick thighs peeking through the frayed sections. I wanted to lick every inch of him.
His footsteps faltered as he spied us waiting for him. Biting down on my lip, I locked eyes with him. Memories of his kiss slammed into me, his hard cock pressing into my belly. My clit throbbed, and wetness coated the tops of my thighs. I shifted, rubbing them together and trying to get some friction against my cunt.
My heart thumped harder. My insides were a tangled mess of desire, hope, and something a lot like nervous anticipation. I couldn’t even explain what it was—I’d known Ezra for years, but I was suddenly shy too.
His kiss had rewired my neural networks, mapping a new path to a hidden place I’d only dreamed of entering.
