Chase
“Good morning, Bethany,” I grunt as I stride towards my office. She looks up, and her face falls. My foul mood is written all over me.
She stands up, reaching for her iPad. “Do you want me to run through your schedule for today?”
“Not now,” I clip. “Is the meeting with Austen and the software team still scheduled for nine a.m.?”
“Yes, they’ve been informed.”
“Good. Can you get me a paper copy of the Monarch proposal? I want to make some tweaks.”
“Certainly.”
I slide into my seat and fire up my laptop, wincing at the stiffness in my hand. I went hell for leather at training this morning. Pounding out my frustration. After an un-fucking-forgettable night with Violet, it seems we’re back to square one. Either she wants this, or she doesn’t. She needs to decide.
There’s a gentle knock on my door before Bethany sticks her head around with the proposal and a coffee in hand.
“Thought you looked like you needed a boost,” she says, placing down the mug along with the proposal.
“Thank you, Bethany. If you could divert all my calls unless it’s urgent, I need to work on this before the meeting.”
“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else.” She leaves, closing the door with a gentle click.
I roll out my shoulders and scan through the proposal for the hundredth time, making adjustments based on Monarch’s latest feedback. They want a faster implementation timeline—fine, I’ll rework the rollout schedule to make it happen. Cost efficiency is a sticking point, so I streamline a few features without compromising security. And since they’re concerned about integration with their existing systems, I highlight our flexibility there.
I’m so absorbed in my work that when I finally glance at my screen, it’s already 8:50 a.m. The meeting with the software team is in ten minutes. Exhaling, I snap my laptop shut and slip into my suit jacket. As much as I’ve avoided the wordleak,last night’s late call with Austen confirmed what we both suspected—it’s happening. Whether it’s careless chatter or something more deliberate, information has been making its way to Elliot, and it stops now. Pushing back from my desk, I grab my coffee and head for the conference room. Compliance and I.T. Security are joining us to reinforce the message—whatever details they’re sharing, even unintentionally, need to stay in-house.
Bethany sits up straighter as I pass by. She’s not alone. The blonde girl from marketing is delivering some paperwork for me to sign. “I should be no longer than an hour,” I say to Bethany as I head to the elevator.
As I wait for the elevator, Fergus stops to waffle in my ear about his latest dick extension—a Ferrari Strada. I nod along,not really listening, my ears pricking when I hear Violet’s name thrown into a conversation at Bethany’s desk.
“...had a pizza and movie night at Violet’s.”
My fist clenches around my laptop case.
Bethany smiles. “That’s nice, Millie. Who was there?”
“Just Seb, Gracie, and Ryan. Between you and me,” Millie adds with a laugh. “I’m trying to set Violet up with Ryan.”
By the time the elevator arrives, my mood is officially in the deepest gutter.
When I walk into the conference room, the conversation dies instantly. Good. At least they have the sense to realize this isn’t a friendly morning huddle.
Violet is already here, sitting halfway down the table, twiddling a pen between her thumb and finger. The first time I’ve seen her since the retreat, and she won’t even look at me. My mood, already dark, curdles further.
I take my seat at the head of the table, letting the silence stretch just long enough to ensure they’re all paying attention. Beside me, Austen leans back in his chair, legs crossed, watching.
“We have a problem,” I say. My voice is calm, controlled. Deadly. “Confidential information has made its way outside this company. Either through carelessness or intent.” My gaze sweeps the room. “Both are unacceptable.”
Austen leans forward, his tone even. “We need to identify vulnerabilities, track down where the breach happened, and eliminate the risk.”
I.T. Security jumps in first, predictably eager to shift the blame. “From an access standpoint, Software Development is the biggest risk factor. If someone mishandled credentials or permissions—”
I turn my gaze to the software team, notably Mark, who looks like he’s about to shit his pants. “Let’s talk about that, Mark.Because frankly, I’m struggling to understand how something like this happens unless someone in your department is either reckless or incompetent.”
Tension spikes. No one speaks.
Then Violet does.
