“Will survive or it won’t,” Orion said. “But I’d rather lose Olympus Royale whilefighting foryou instead of sacrificing the woman I love.”
“Same,” Leo said.
“Agreed,” I added.
Tashi’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re all insane.”
“We’ve established that,” Leo said with a slight smile. “Multiple times.”
“What now?” Tashi asked. “The footage is out there. The hearing is in three days. How do we fight this?”
I stood there for another moment, watching Tashi’s face cycle through emotions—anger, resignation, and fear. Each one twisted something in my chest that I didn’t have time to examine right now.
“I’m going to find who did this,” I said.
“Ares don’t do something—incendiary. We don’t need that now,” Orion said.
“No.” My voice came out harder than I intended. “Whoever leaked that footage violated us. All of us. I’m going to find them, and I’m going to make sure they pay for it.”
I didn’t wait for a response, just turned and walked out, my hands already curling into fists at my sides. The rage built, cold and calculated. Military training had taught me how to channel anger into action, transforming emotional reactions into tactical precision. Right now, I needed that discipline because what I really wanted was to punch a hole through a wall. Or through Wilder’s face.
The security operations center was three levels down, accessible only with a key card and a biometric scan. I practicallypunched the scanner, my palm slapping against it hard enough that the system hesitated before recognizing me.
The door clicked open. Neville was at his station, surrounded by monitors displaying code, network diagrams, and data streams. He looked up when I entered, took one look at my face, and his expression shifted from focused to wary.
“You’ve seen it,” he said.
“Everyone’s seen it.” I crossed the room in three strides, planting my hands on his desk. “I need to know who pulled that footage. Not tomorrow. Not in an hour. Now.”
“Ares—”
“Now, Neville.”
He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m already on it. I have been since the video went live.”
“And?”
“And it’s not simple.” He pulled up a series of windows on his main monitor.
“The file was uploaded from a VPN routing through six different countries. Professional-grade anonymization. Whoever did the upload knew how to cover their tracks.”
“I’m not concerned about their tracks. I care about finding them.” My voice grew louder, sharper. I could hear it but couldn’t seem to stop it. “Someone accessed our security feeds, stole private footage, edited it, enhanced it, and broadcast it to the world. That’s not just a data breach—that’s a calculated attack. And I need to know who.”
“I understand?—”
“Do you?” I leaned closer, my knuckles white where I gripped the edge of his desk. “Because three million people just watched something that was supposed to be private. Three million strangers saw Tashi—saw all of us—at our most vulnerable. And you’re telling me you can’t trace it?”
“I’m telling you it’s going to take time,” Neville said, his voice calm but firm. “The metadata’s been stripped. The upload used Tor routing. The account that posted it was created two hours before the video went live, using a burner email address registered through a privacy service in Estonia.”
He showed me a series of network logs. “Look at the timing. The file was downloaded at 6:47 a.m. The video was posted at 9:23 a.m. today. That’s a less than three-hour gap. What’s the hurry?”
“Because someone told him to do it.”
“Exactly.” Neville highlighted sections of code. “The upload was done by someone with serious technical chops, with dark web expertise. This is the type of person who knows how to make digital evidence disappear—or in this case, make it appear everywhere at once without leaving traces.”
“Who has those skills?”
Neville pulled up another screen. “Many individuals possess those skills, provided you know where to find them. Hackers for hire. Corporate espionage specialists. Anyone with enough money and motivation.”
