Page 124 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
[SECURITY ALERT: External Access Attempt Detected.]
I frown. I pull out my phone.
It’s a ping on the secure server. Someone is trying to probe the backend of the Mosaic user database. It’s clumsy. A brute-force attempt.
I tap the screen, tracing the IP. It bounces through three proxies. Russia. Brazil. And then… a local node.
Austin, Texas. Downtown.
My eyes narrow. I look at the map. The origin point is three blocks away.
Nebula Corp. Vance.
I feel the cold, familiar clarity of the machine settle over me. The emotions of the morning—the warmth, the lust, the panic—are compartmentalized instantly. They’re filed away in a secure folder.
The predator wakes up.
“You want to play, Markus?” I whisper to the screen.
He’s dead certain he’s won. He thinks he stole our strategist and we’re bleeding out, scrambling to recover. He fully expects Tessa to sign his contract on Monday. So he’s probing the perimeter right now, looking for an open backdoor while he assumes we’re too distracted to notice.
I walk into the server room, the hum of the cooling fans greeting me like a choir. I sit in my chair and crack my knuckles before bringing up the terminal. Green text flows like water.
EXECUTE COUNTER-PROTOCOL: OMEGA. TARGET: NEBULA_MAIN.
He has no idea. We aren’t distracted. We’re unified. And I’m going to tear his digital life apart.
I emerge for coffee. My biological indicators suggest dehydration.
The kitchen is crowded, and the launch anxiety is palpable. People are vibrating.
I pour black coffee into a mug. I don’t use sugar. It’s inefficient.
“Hey, Ash.”
I stop pouring.
It’s Tessa. She’s standing by the refrigerator, holding a yogurt. She looks normal. She’s chatting with Sarah from HR. She’s laughing.
“Hey,” I say.
“Did you see the latest engagement metrics?” she asks. “The ‘Find Your Tribe’ campaign is trending.”
“I saw,” I say. “The algorithm is prioritizing organic growth.”
“Exactly.” She smiles. “It’s working.”
Sarah from HR looks between us. “You guys seem… in sync today. Usually, you’re arguing about API integration.”
“We resolved the conflict,” Tessa says smoothly. She opens her yogurt. “We found a workaround.”
“Good,” Sarah says. “Because Ethan has been in a mood all week. Hopefully, this calms him down.”
“I think he’s calmer,” Tessa says. She glances at me. Her eyes sparkle.
My phone buzzes again.
I expect it to be the server logs. Or Ethan.
