India blinked and wondered what that meant. They hadn’t really studied the repercussions of this hack. The hacks were all designed to make a political statement. They’d hit the news cycle, draw attention to the negative aspect of the company that they were targeting, and the company would repair their systems and continue to be corporate assholes. This hack had been about a fair living wage for the employees of Blackstone Industries.
She stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder, and he shook her off. “Don’t touch me.” Unexpectedly, that made her heart clench. But she wanted desperately to touch him.
“But...” She hesitated, unsure of what to say, fighting the urge to be herself. Because maybe India Moss would have wrapped herself around this man and claimed him as her own. But she was India Mason, the silly, bumbling administrative assistant right now.
“You’re fired, India. Your passwords were a likely source of the leak. Did you not even think to shred the password document? You’re an idiot,” he snapped. She had known she would be fired. It was part of the plan. Still, those words stung.
“I’m not an idiot,” she whispered, blinking hard, and he smirked.
“We all know you’re not the brightest, and you don’t even make up for it with your looks.” His voice was a low growl. “Get out of my office.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she let them because it worked with her cover. Later, she could tell herself it was irrational to get upset when she had spent so long intentionally screwing things up. That the plan was to get fired. Right now, she wanted him to feel like an asshole because he was being an asshole.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“Baby girl,” he said, snidely using Enzo’s nickname for her. “I can find an assistant who will make decent coffee and fuck me. Why would I need you?”
Why did that sting so badly? She growled as she grabbed her purse and stalked to the elevator. When pushing the button and waiting wasn’t quite the dramatic satisfaction she needed, she yanked open the door to the fire stair and stomped down. She came out into the lobby to find Enzo standing there, frowning as he noted her glassy eyes.
“I guess your job is complete, fake boyfriend,” she whispered as they walked towards the door. Heather had tried to chase her down with a file folder. There was probably some exit paperwork she should do, but she couldn’t bring herself to give a flying fuck. And that alias, India Mason, was going to vanish.
He frowned. “Does it have to be?”
“I think it does, sadly. But wait for a call from Moss. We have plans, and he’s planning to hire you.”
“Are you okay?” He reached for her shoulder.
She shook her head and looked out across the courtyard they were standing in, blinking away the last traces of her emotions. “You don’t even know the real me. I am headed to Costa Rica for two months next, but this was fun. Moss will be in touch.”
“Right, fun. Noted.” Enzo’s jaw clenched, and his whole demeanor changed. Once again, he was tense and upright, back to the military stance of when they first met. India wanted to cry even harder.
Instead, she blinked hard and turned away from him as they exited the elevator. India Moss did not get emotionally involved in her hacks. She did not worry about the repercussions for the one-percenters that were the targets of their pranks, and she definitely did not get emotionally involved with people in her brother’s employ. She was India Fucking Moss, Black Shadow, and she was going to blend right back into her old life and start plotting their next move. Something clean and neat. Something that didn’t involve hanging out with handsome men.
Chapter 8 - Sean
Two months later, Sean stalked out into the elevator corridor. His new head of HR, Joanne was jogging after him to keep up, her heels clicking on the sidewalk. “I have a meeting with a security agency. Find me a new assistant. I’ve gone through three in the past three months, starting with that idiot India who couldn’t even get a fucking cup of coffee right. When is Gwen back from maternity leave?”
“I’ll find someone, sir,” Joanne said briskly. “It might help if you’d be a little nicer to them. Heather said that India was crying as she left the building, and so was the next girl, Lola? Lydia.”
Sean snorted and pushed the button for the parking garage. In desperate need of some space and silence, he had decided that he was going to drive himself. The soft leather and rumbling purr of the engine of his BMW was something he found relaxing, something that enabled him to shut out the stress of his life and listen to some music. He typed in the GPS coordinates of the next and last security agency on his list. Apparently he couldn’t trust a single person in his employ, so he was handling the interviews personally.
He took a deep breath. India had been crying when she left the office. That statement shouldn’t make his chest ache. He could still remember her big, watery blue eyes as she stared at him, confused. But he was forced to fire her. The breach was hers. And he had no other excuse to see her, so he had heard nothing from her since that day. But he missed her, and it was driving him a little crazy.
Forcing her to retreat with harsh words had been his only option. There was no way he could see her again.
This agency was new to Portland but was supposed to have one of the best hackers in the business heading their cyber security division. Sean had heard only good things. He watched the buildings zip by as he headed away from the tall buildings of downtown toward a funkier up-and-coming neighborhood. This agency certainly had a cool factor all the others lacked, which Sean wasn’t sure was something one looked for in a security consultant. Their office was in a converted warehouse, spare and industrial in style, and he frowned as he pulled into a small parking garage on the first floor of the building.
The elevator went up only one story and opened into a lobby. It looked like the sort of place a bunch of Portland hipsters would work, with big, wide open spaces and a lot of exposed brick. At the front desk, a bubbly blonde looked up and frowned at him. “Heather?” He blinked at her.
“Mr. Blackstone?” she looked about as confused as he was. She had left his company about a month before, claiming she had found a job with killer benefits, but sitting at the reception desk at a security agency didn’t seem to fit that description. She had been his head of HR, not a receptionist.
Heather shook herself and led him back to meet with the agency owner himself, Spencer Moss, who was a tall, slim man with a weak handshake. Spencer Moss didn’t look like a security expert. He had the look of indolent, useless wealth. It reminded Sean uncomfortably of his uncles.
“So, Mr. Blackstone, tell us what we can do for you,” he said, eyeing Sean.
“I’ve had two cyber attacks in three months. I need to figure out if someone is after my company or if it’s a coincidence,” Sean said. He pulled out a file on the attacks and handed it over. Moss took it and frowned.
“What does your company do? It’s a family business?”
“Yes, shipping and import/export. My great-grandfather founded it after World War II.”
