Chapter 4
1270words
There was no dramatic "caught red-handed" moment—the scene was almost… comical.
A USB drive protruded from the computer, with bold text on the screen:
[WARNING: Unauthorized device detected. Please proceed with retinal verification or enter administrator override password.]
The scene resembled a child caught trying to play video games at midnight, only to discover their favorite game was password-protected.
Bella knelt on the Persian carpet, teetering between confusion and breakdown.
"Why…" she mumbled, "they said I just needed to plug in the drive and click run… it would automatically implant the files… why isn't it working? WHY ISN'T IT WORKING?!"
"Pfft."
I couldn't help but laugh out loud.
My laugh shattered the silence. Bella whipped around, eyes venomous, while Corvis wore an expression of utter disbelief.
"Bella," Corvis walked behind her, mockingly, "what exactly did you think my personal terminal was? A public library computer? You thought some street-vendor USB drive could access my data?"
He tapped the desk: "This security system cost thirty million dollars. Even Pentagon hackers would be on their knees without my authorization."
Bella finally realized her stupidity and began sobbing, trying to gain sympathy: "I… I didn't know… Corvis, I wasn't trying to hurt the company! I just wanted her gone!"
"I saw the news this morning saying she was your fiancée! What right does she have?! Then… I got a call. Someone offered me a USB drive—said it would automatically upload evidence proving she's a corporate spy. I agreed…"
Evidence I was a spy? I instinctively glanced at Corvis, relieved he'd reached the same conclusion—if it were just uploading files, his firewall wouldn't have triggered.
Unless the drive contained malware.
"Corvis, I only did this because I love you so much!" Bella continued tearfully. "This Nora who appeared from nowhere—she can't be good for you! You absolutely cannot be with her!!"
"Are you finished?" Corvis interrupted impatiently. "Tell me, where were you last night?"
Bella looked confused by the question. "Last night? I was home all evening. My parents and the staff can verify that."
I studied her reaction—she didn't appear to be lying.
Which meant she likely had nothing to do with the missing chip.
Corvis pressed the intercom.
Two security guards rushed in.
"Escort Miss Bella to the guest room and confiscate all her electronic devices. I don't want her having any outside contact."
Corvis ordered coldly. "Also, have the private investigator take her phone. Monitor the number that provided the USB drive, though I suspect they've already destroyed the SIM card after seeing the mission fail."
Bella screamed and begged as she was dragged away, but Corvis didn't even blink.
The study was finally quiet.
Corvis removed the USB drive, tossing it in his hand. "Seems whoever's behind this didn't expect Bella to succeed—just wanted to annoy me and test my security."
"Don't be so quick to discard it."
I stepped forward, stopping him from tossing the drive into the shredder.
"Since they gave Bella this 'tool,' it must contain the malware's source code."
"Have your tech team reverse engineer it. Though they've hidden their IP, every hacker group has distinctive coding habits, architecture patterns, even commenting styles. These technical fingerprints could narrow down suspects and identify which competitor is behind this."
Corvis stopped tossing the drive.
He turned, his gray eyes fixed steadily on me.
"Reverse engineering? Code characteristic analysis?"
He raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly in appreciation. "Nora, you continue to surprise me. That's hardly the approach an ordinary college student would suggest."
"Check your assumptions, Mr. Croft."
I met his gaze unflinchingly. "Don't assume scholarship students are naive. I built a company from nothing—small as it may be. I've haggled with tech contractors to save every penny. I know the basics."
"Fascinating."
Corvis's smile deepened as he dropped the drive into an evidence bag, his tone carrying newfound respect. "Fine. We'll do it your way."
"Now that we have an investigation direction and caught the mole—attempted as she was," I spread my hands, getting to the point, "can our 'fiancée' charade end? Terminate my contract and unfreeze my company."
"No."
Corvis refused bluntly, almost shamelessly.
"Why?!" I demanded, exasperated.
"Because the core crisis remains unresolved."
Corvis walked to the window, speaking slowly. "That missing chip is the physical key to the Deep Sea algorithm. Though it has triple quantum encryption and is difficult to crack, every day it remains missing puts the Croft Group at risk."
He turned to face me: "Besides, while we have leads on last night's incident, nothing's confirmed. At this critical juncture, I can't afford negative press—especially jokes about being 'dumped by my fiancée' that would affect stock prices."
"So?"
"So until the chip is recovered, you're not going anywhere."
"Since this play has begun, it must continue until the final curtain. For now, you remain the mistress of Croft Manor."
I took a deep breath, knowing reasoning with this tyrant was pointless.
"Fine," I forced a smile through gritted teeth. "I'll stay. Just make sure my performance fee hits my account tomorrow."
With that, I turned and slammed the door behind me.
…
The next morning.
Sunlight streamed through massive windows onto the dining table where the butler arranged silver cutlery.
As I descended the stairs, Corvis was already at the head of the table in casual attire, tablet in hand, black coffee before him.
Seeing me, he pushed the tablet toward me.
"Your instincts were spot on."
"The drive contained no files framing you as a spy," he cut a piece of bacon, tone matter-of-fact. "The tech team analyzed the code overnight. The malware's architecture closely matches a virus that targeted the Pentagon three years ago. That hacker group now works for the Vargas Group."
"Vargas…"
I took the tablet, examining the report, unconsciously muttering, "Julian Vargas, energy sector origins, pivoted to high-frequency trading three years ago, always saw Croft Group as competition. That old snake's known for his ruthless tactics—this fits his profile."
The dining room fell silent for several seconds.
I snapped back to awareness, looking up to meet Corvis's penetrating gaze.
He set down his coffee cup, leaned back, and crossed his arms, studying me.
"Julian Vargas, energy sector origins, ruthless tactics."
Corvis repeated my words. "Nora, for someone supposedly focused on scholarships and cosmetics sales, you seem remarkably well-informed about this reclusive business titan."
My heart skipped a beat.
Damn—professional habit. That analysis had slipped out from the perspective of a Constantine heir.
But I maintained perfect composure.
I calmly sipped my milk, wiped my mouth, and met his gaze directly:
"Doesn't every business owner follow industry news? The Vargas Group is a giant—small fry like me need to stay informed."
I paused, then counterattacked: "Besides, weren't you able to call me by name at our first meeting? Mr. Croft, what businessperson doesn't have intelligence sources these days?"
Corvis stared at me for a full five seconds.
He suddenly chuckled.
It was a laugh of genuine amusement.
"Well played."
He picked up his utensils again, the curiosity in his eyes intensifying rather than fading.
If before he'd looked at me like an amusing toy, now he gazed at me like a book he couldn't decipher but desperately wanted to read.
"Since you're so business-savvy, work overtime with me tonight preparing a gift for old Vargas."
I raised an eyebrow: "Overtime pay included?"
Corvis looked up, his voice deep and magnetic:
"The entire resources of the Croft Group at your disposal. Sufficient, fiancée?"
In that moment, I actually found this bastard somewhat… captivating.
Must be sleep deprivation causing hallucinations.
