The morning sunlight slipped through the blinds before my alarm could ring. My eyes opened instantly, mind already in motion. I had reviewed every scenario last night until dawn, predicting possible moves, and today was going to be the first test. Ethan's cryptic message still lingered in my thoughts—Tomorrow will not go as planned.
I made coffee while reviewing the presentation on my tablet. Everything was in order, but I had learned to never rely solely on order. The quiet hum of the city below felt deceptive, as if the world itself was waiting for something to go wrong.
When I reached the office, the difference was immediate. People were whispering, their eyes darting from desk to desk. A storm was brewing, and Claire's smug expression told me exactly who had stirred it.
"Morning, Selina," she greeted sweetly, her tone dripping with sugar and venom. "I heard there's been some… confusion with the client presentation files."
"Confusion?" I repeated, setting my bag down calmly. "That's interesting. I left them locked in the drive last night."
Clara appeared behind her, pretending to fumble with a stack of folders. "Maybe someone forgot to back up the right version?"
I smiled slightly. "Then we'll check the access logs, won't we?"
For a moment, Claire's confident smile faltered. She wasn't expecting that answer. I powered up my workstation, entering silent commands as the screen filled with data. Within seconds, the logs confirmed what I suspected—someone had tried to alter the presentation files at 1:43 a.m.
"I see what happened," I said softly. "Someone used an unauthorized ID to make changes."
Adrian entered just then, sensing tension. "Is there a problem?"
Claire spoke quickly, "We might have lost the final version for today's meeting. Selina must have—"
"The files are secure," I interrupted firmly. "I made backups last night. They're stored under the internal archive."
Adrian's gaze flicked between us. "Good. Make sure they're ready for the client call at noon."
Claire's expression tightened as she returned to her desk. I caught the faintest sound of her muttering something under her breath, but I didn't need to hear the words to know their intent.
By the time the client meeting began, the tension had settled like fog. I shared the screen, presenting the numbers and analysis I had prepared. My voice was steady, professional, but every word carried confidence. The clients nodded, impressed by the clarity and depth. Adrian occasionally added insights, but I could see him glancing my way with subtle approval.
Halfway through the meeting, Ethan entered. He leaned against the doorway, watching silently. His presence was commanding, unsettling in a way that demanded attention without words. When the presentation ended successfully, applause filled the room. Adrian gave a small smile, while Ethan's expression remained unreadable.
After everyone left, Ethan approached me. "You handled that well," he said. "I was curious to see how you'd react under pressure."
"I prefer to prevent problems before they appear," I replied. "Preparation is everything."
He studied me, his eyes sharp yet unreadable. "And yet, you always seem prepared for things no one else sees coming. Tell me, Selina, how far ahead do you think?"
I hesitated, meeting his gaze. "Far enough to stay standing when everyone else falls."
Something flickered in his expression—interest, maybe admiration—but he didn't say more. He simply nodded and walked away.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of calculations and observations. Claire tried to provoke me again during the review, subtly suggesting my numbers were exaggerated. Adrian quickly dismissed her concerns, but I saw the frustration building in her eyes. She was unraveling faster than she realized.
By the time evening arrived, I was exhausted but satisfied. I stopped by the convenience store near my apartment, grabbing dinner before heading home. The air was cool, the city lights reflected off puddles from an earlier rain. Everything seemed peaceful, but I had long learned that peace was rarely genuine.
Once home, I kicked off my heels and settled in front of my workstation again. I inserted a flash drive I had discreetly copied from the office earlier—one that contained a backup of the project database. I wasn't paranoid; I was prepared. As the files decrypted, new folders appeared that shouldn't have been there. Hidden documents, financial inconsistencies, and confidential notes under an account name I didn't recognize: E. Knight.
Ethan.
My pulse quickened slightly as I opened the encrypted document. It wasn't a simple financial report—it was a communication log. Emails, timestamped and coded, between Ethan and the company's foreign partners. Some messages discussed internal manipulation and testing employee loyalty. My name appeared multiple times, marked with a tag: "Monitor closely."
I leaned back, processing it. So, this was the game he was playing. The warning he sent last night wasn't a threat—it was a test. He wanted to see if I would uncover this on my own.
I smiled faintly. Challenge accepted.
As the screens filled with light, I began decoding the rest of the logs, following patterns, identifying connections, and building a digital map of every secret channel within the company. I didn't know who the real enemy was yet—Claire, Ethan, or someone even higher—but I was done reacting. It was time to take control.
An hour later, a notification popped up on my phone. A new message, unmarked. "Be careful what you dig for, Selina."
No sender ID. No trace.
I stared at the message for a long time, then looked back at the screens, glowing with the data I had uncovered. My reflection stared back at me through the glass—calm, calculating, and quietly dangerous.
If they wanted to play this game in shadows, I would play better.
Tomorrow, the pieces would begin to move again. And this time, I wouldn't just defend. I would strike.