Page 19 of Falling for Mr. Ruthless

I turn, giving him a look that would silence anyone else. Tyson just raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"What good would it do?" I move to my desk, forcing him to vacate my chair. "She already thinks I'm interfering."

"Aren't you?"

"I'm protecting the audit."

Tyson snorts, sitting on the edge of my desk. "Right. The audit."

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes with an incoming message. I glance down to see an alert from security: another breach—this one deeper. Someone accessed restricted files using Chanel's credentials. Files only accessible from inside Novare's building.

Someone is getting bolder. More reckless.

Or more desperate.

I forward the alert to Ethan Collins, my head of Cybersecurity, with a single instruction:Find them.

"Problem?" Tyson asks, watching my face.

"Nothing I can't handle." I set the phone down. "Don't you have work to do? Actual work, not just annoying me?"

"Probably." He stretches, making no move to leave. "But this is more entertaining."

"Out." I point to the door. "I need to think."

He stands, shaking his head. "You need to be careful, Jakob. Whoever's behind this isn't just after the audit. They're after you."

"I know." I've known since the first irregularity appeared. This is personal. Targeted. A message wrapped in sabotage.

And I have a pretty good idea who's sending it.

After Tyson leaves, I sit at my desk, staring at nothing. The breach is escalating. The pattern is clear. Someone wants to destroy Chanel's credibility. Someone with access to both RSV and Novare systems. Someone who knows our history.

Someone who wants to hurt me by hurting her.

I pull up the security logs, scanning through the access points, the timestamps, the file paths. Looking for the pattern. The signature. The proof I need.

The office grows darker around me. I don't turn on the lights. Don't need them to see what's happening.

Megan is back.

Not physically. Not yet. But her digital fingerprints are all over this—the precision, the escalation, the personal nature of the attack. Four years, and she's still trying to finish what she started.

I lean back in my chair, eyes closed, memories surfacing despite my efforts to keep them buried.

Megan in my office, voice soft but eyes hard:You love her? Then keep her out of this. Or I'll bury her with you.

Megan's hand on my collar, her mouth too close:We built this together, Jakob. You don't get to walk away.

Megan's final threat, delivered with a smile that didn't reach her eyes:If I can't have you, neither can she.

I open my eyes, the present rushing back. I made a choice then—to cut Chanel loose. To let her hate me. To give Megan the victory she wanted most: our separation.

It kept Chanel safe for four years.

But now she's back in the crosshairs, and it's my fault.Again.

My phone buzzes with an incoming call. Collins.