Page 69 of Texting My Secret CEO
“Let’s talk in your office,” Pete says.
“Fuck that.” I gesture at the lobby, empty apart from the security guys on the opposite side of the room. “Just tell me here.”
Pete removes his glasses again.
“Pete—enough with the glasses. Tell me. Now.”
He sighs. “Messages between TheRealCreator and DakkyDuck have been leaked to the public. In the messages, you both?—”
“Use each other’s real names. Have virtual sex. Talk about how much we care about each other.”
Panic grips me. I’ve anticipated this moment so many times. But somehow, I didn’t know it’d slam into me this hard. It’s like ourbusiness is turning to sand, and I can feel it drifting through my fingertips.
Of course, thishadto happen after last night. It was too perfect. We were too close. The world is a goddamn joke.
“Has anybody picked them up?” I ask.
“They were leaked to a few websites. They’ve got articles up already. There’s already buzz on social media too.”
“We need a plan of attack,” I snap.
Pete nods. “That’s why we came in early.”
“My office,” I say, striding toward the elevator. “Damon, how did this happen?”
“This came from inside,” he tells me as we ride the elevator up.
“Someone frominsideleaked this shit? Someone from Halcyon?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Damon says.
“Son of a bitch,” I roar, smashing my fist into the elevator wall.
I feel like a kid having a tantrum when I snatch my fist away, my knuckles bloody.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
They both look shocked that I’d even think this word, let alone say it, which says a lot about the man I was before I found Dakota.
“Give me a list of suspects,” I snap. “Whoever this is, they’re never working in this industry again. Hell, they might even face prison time. How did they even get access?”
Damon looks at the floor like he thinks he’s going to take the wall’s place. The elevator doors open and we walk into the antechamber of my office.
“There was a weak point in the end-to-end encryption,” he says. “We’re protected against outside sources. I’m certain of that. But I didn’t anticipate somebody using internal access for the private chat logs in test levels. We’re already working on closing the loophole.”
“Anything else?” I ask.
Damon shakes his head.
I nod at the elevator. “Then keep working. Pete, come on.”
In my office, I go straight to my desk and grab a tennis ball. Squeeze it. Crush it immediately. I grab another and try to treat it a little nicer. I feel manic, like I’ve mainlined ten cups of coffee straight through my eyeballs.
“What’s the play here?” I ask.
“Can I use your laptop?”
“You don’t need to talk to me like you’re afraid of me.”
