Page 66 of Requiem
“How were you guys able to delete Nolan’s stuff before?” I ask. “But not this?”
Rafe answers quickly. “Because that was before Alexei. He solidified everything after. This is what realizing you've gotten yourself in deep shit looks like.”
“I can attest to that,” Adriana murmurs. “He was terrified of him by the end.”
I stare at the screen, trying to wrap my head around the reality of it.
We found the files.
And westillcan’t do a damn thing. Because if we do something wrong, it can triggerbothto release.
Emma speaks again, her voice quiet but steady. “Then we don’t try to delete anything yet.”
Rafe’s gaze shifts to her, intrigued. “What are you suggesting, dear therapist?”
She doesn’t look at him. Her eyes stay on the screen. “We learn it,” she says. “And then we dismantle it safely. We can’t risk exposing Jude more than Alexei already has.”
“Let me check something on Alexei’s network,” Adela hums under her breath, sliding another laptop in front of her. “His system was locking me out before. But I think I can—” She stops, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, completely still.
“What?” Nico asks, stepping closer.
Adela doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes narrow, scanning something deeper in the system. “That’s weird,” she murmurs.
Rafe leans over her. “Define weird.”
Adela clicks into another file. This one opens instantly. Images populate the screen, clearer this time.
My teeth clench. “I thought you said it was locked.”
“It was,” she says slowly. Her fingers move again, faster now, pulling up metadata, logs, backend activity. Her expression changes. “No,” she mutters under her breath.
“What?” I push.
Adela leans back, eyes still locked on the screen. “This is a honeytrap,” she says quietly. “The motherfucker set this perfectly for us. He must have just done this overnight.”
Rafe goes still, his hand resting on the back of her chair.
Nico steps in closer. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Her voice sharpens now, focused.
“A honeywhat?”I ask, my pulse suddenly picking up speed. They’re concerned. That’s fucking bad.
Adela sighs. “These files are too accessible. The response time is wrong. And look at this—” she points to a small string of code buried in the corner. “Embedded tracking protocols. If we go deeper without isolating itproperly, it flags the activity.”
“Flags it to who?” Heather asks.
Adela doesn’t look up. “Alexei, of course.”
Rafe’s jaw tightens, turning toward us to better explain. “So, essentially, if we keep pushing—”
“We don’t just risk triggering the dead-man switch,” Adela interrupts. “We risk telling Alexeiexactlywherethe access attempt is coming from. Despite my firm’s protections.”
My stomach drops. “He’d know we’re here,” I mutter.
“Or close enough,” she confirms.
Emma’s voice cuts in. “So he’s aware you’re in there?”
