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She smiles sweetly. “Max.”

I sigh. “Fine. Put them through in five.”

Her smile widens. Loretta presses the box of baked goods into my hands before I can protest. “Blueberry muffins. Eat one. You look like you’re running on spite and caffeine again.” Without Loretta, this place would descend into chaos in under a week. “And before you vanish into your Batcave, Yamila wants to see you.”

Of course she does.

I glance toward Yamila’s office. Glass walls, minimalist desk, posture so perfect it’s almost intimidating. She’s already watching me, one eyebrow raised like she’s mentally calculating how long it’ll take to replace me with AI so she can take over.

Yamila Haddad is easily the smartest person in this building. Maybe in any building I’ve ever been in. Middle Eastern, refined, and terrifyingly calm. Her idea of small talk is debating quantum encryption.

“Max,” she says as I step inside. “You were supposed to review the new threat models yesterday.”

“I did.” I pause. “In my head.” I had planned to respond to her until I again fell down the rabbit hole of the dark web.

She stares at me.

“I’ll send feedback today,” I add.

“You said that yesterday.”

I shrug. “Technically, it’s still yesterday somewhere.”

No smile. Not even a twitch.

Glancing over her shoulder into the bullpen, I wince as Bauer spins in his chair, nearly colliding with Frank, who’s hauling in a stack of packages like he’s training for some kind of courier Olympics.

Frank Williams is my best friend and the physical embodiment of New Jersey. Muscles, tan, and hair that probably takes longer to style than the girls at my favorite club.

We’d met in high school, and it was clear we were on two different trajectories. College was never in the cards for Frank. He’d planned to take over his dad’s construction business until prostate cancer caused his father to sell so he could enjoy the remainder of his life traveling the world with his wife.

Now, Frank owns a courier business. One I financed. Other than some random clients, I’m his biggest account. Mostly because I’d rather pay him than a stranger.

And because I trust him with my life.

Now, Bauer is… something else. When I hired him, I fully expected to fire him within a month. Thought he’d spend all day gaming and forget his deadlines. Instead, he turned out to be a cybersecurity savant who can dismantle a system in minutes. But that’s where it stops. There’s no use having him attempt to interface with clients. Jeez, even with Loretta, he often forgets how to make eye contact.

“I fixed the vulnerability,” Bauer announces proudly.

“Great,” Loretta says. “Did you also fix your resume, so it doesn’t say keyboard wizard under special skills?”

Bauer looks genuinely confused.

I retreat into my office before Loretta focuses her attention back on me. Closing the door, I let the muted buzz of the bullpen fade and await the call I’ve been advised I need to handle personally.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the rest of the space, all glass and steel and carefully curated simplicity. My desk is pristine. There’s no clutter, no personal photos. Only high-tech computer screens.

I set the muffins aside and wake up my monitors. Threat maps flare to life. Neon blue data streams against a dark screen pour in. And, inevitably, my mind drifts where it always does. Places it shouldn’t. To thoughts I’ve promised myself not to entertain during business hours.

I shove the distraction down and focus on the Baltimore firm, pulling up their network architecture. Amateur mistake. It’s only an outdated firewall. They never stood a chance. I patch them up quickly, rerouting traffic and isolating the breach.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

“Hello.”

“Mr. Wilde, thank you so much for taking our call⁠—”

“Your breach is coming from an outdated firewall on your west server. I’ve already sealed it,” I blurt.