Chapter 5 - The Midnight Alert
The quiet intimacy of the room was shattered by a sharp, electronic chime coming from the main office desk. It wasn't a phone call; it was the high-priority security terminal warning light—a flashing amber beacon that meant someone was attempting external network access to restricted legacy files. The sudden interruption sliced through the heavy, emotionally charged air like a blade, bringing the fragile truce between Dominic and me crashing down into harsh reality.
Dominic pulled his hand away instantly, his face hardening back into the cold mask of the corporate leader. He didn't hesitate. He strode swiftly out of the rest suite and into the main office, his leather-soled shoes clicking sharply against the polished marble floor. He planted his hands on the dark executive desk with its black leather top insert, his fingers flying across the concealed wall console to bring up the master security grid.
"Who is accessing the Julian Caruso archive?" Dominic demanded into the intercom, his voice ringing with absolute authority that brooked no argument.
The system speaker crackled with static before the chief of night security's voice answered, laced with palpable tension. *"Sir, we're tracking an unauthorized decryption attempt on the 08-B legacy server. It's coming from an external IP address, but the decryption key being used... Mr. Caruso, it's the master key assigned only to the managing partner's terminal."*
Dominic’s dark eyes widened slightly in the dim office light, the amber glow of the console reflecting sharply in his pupils. The managing partner's terminal was locked securely inside Marcus Vance's private office three doors down the hall. Someone was actively trying to erase the remaining digital trail of Julian's estate before morning, attempting to bury the evidence of whatever happened to my partner before the sun rose over the skyscrapers.
"Lock down the floor," Dominic ordered, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register that made my heart race. "Route all firewall logs to my private terminal. Do not let anyone leave the building."
*"Understood, sir,"* the security chief replied, and the line clicked dead.
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Dominic turned slowly from the console, looking back through the glass partition toward the rest suite where I stood holding Grace. The baby stirred slightly against my shoulder, letting out a soft, whimpering breath that pierced the sudden silence. The city lights outside cast long, dramatic shadows across Dominic's face, highlighting the hard line of his jaw and the fierce, protective fire burning in his eyes. The game had fundamentally changed. The secrets we carried were no longer just a private family tragedy—they were a target, and someone in this very building knew we were getting too close to the truth.
"Hannah," Dominic said, walking toward the doorway and stopping just inches away from me, his breath warm and steady. "We're not safe here. Grab the baby's bag. You're coming home with me tonight."
