Page 18 of Toxic

“Not yet,” Lucas admits, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “Whoever it is, they’re good. Really good.”

I feel a muscle twitch in my jaw, the only outward sign of my growing anger. “Not good enough. Find out who’s behind this. I want names, motives, everything. This is private information that’s being played with. And if I find out any of you are involved...” I let the threat hang in the air, watching as they pale.

They nod, understanding the implicit promise of violence in my words. As they file out, I call Daniel in. “A moment.”

Once we’re alone, I fix him with a hard stare. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He hesitates, then sighs. “We have a lead. But it’s... complicated.”

“Spit it out.” My patience is wearing thin.

“We believe the interference is coming from Sphinx.”

The name hits me like a physical blow. Sphinx—the legendary hacker, untouchable and unidentified for years. I’ve heard whispers, of course. Everyone in my circles has. But to have Sphinx involved in my affairs...

“Contact them,” I order. “Now.”

Lucas nods, pulling out his phone to send an encrypted message through channels I prefer not to know about. The response comes back almost immediately, and I can see the frustration on Lucas’s face before he even speaks.

“They say only Sphinx can answer our questions, and Sphinx is unavailable to speak at this time.”

I feel a surge of anger, my fist slamming down on the desk. The sound echoes through the office like a gunshot. “They’re playing games,” I snarl. “But why? What’s their angle?”

Lucas flinches but holds his ground. “We don’t know, sir. It could be a trap, or they might be after company secrets.”

I stand abruptly, pacing behind my desk. If Sphynx wants company secrets, there’s nothing I can do about it. Sphynx is the best. Whoever they are, they wouldn’t help me to then steal. Something’s not adding up. “What do we know about Sphinx’s recent activities?”

“Not much, sir. They’ve been quiet lately. The only notable tech news has been the launch of that new cybersecurity firm, West Securities.”

I pause. “Devin West’s company?”

Lucas nods. “Yes, sir. They’ve been making waves in the industry. Devin West herself is said to be highly skilled.”

I grunt, recalling the dossier I’d had compiled on Devin when she returned to the city. Her company had caught my attention, but there had been nothing to suggest a connection to Sphinx or any hacker groups.

“Keep digging,” I order Lucas. “I want to know everything about West Securities, and I mean everything. But keep it quiet. If Devin West is involved in this, I don’t want her tipped off.”

As Lucas leaves, I turn back to the window, my mind racing. Why would Sphinx care about Rivers Financial? Are they setting me up? And where does Devin fit into all of this?

The anger builds inside me, a familiar, almost comforting pressure. I need an outlet, and I know just where to find one.

“Daniel,” I speak into my secure phone. “Meet me at the warehouse. Bring our... guest.”

An hour later, I’m standing in a dimly lit room in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and the acrid stench of fear. In the center of the room, tied to a chair, is the waiter who handed me that drugged champagne at the gala.

His face is already a mess of bruises and cuts from previous “conversations,” but I’m far from done with him.

“Who sent you to drug me?” I demand, my voice echoing in the cavernous space.

The waiter spits blood, his eyes defiant. “Go to hell.”

I smile, a cold, mirthless expression that makes him shrink back. “Oh, I intend to, but I’m going to send you there first.”

My fist connects with his jaw, the satisfying crunch of bone a balm to my frayed nerves. I lose myself in the rhythm of the beating, each blow a release for my pent-up frustration and rage.

I’m dimly aware of Daniel watching from the shadows, his face impassive. He’s seen this side of me before, knows when to intervene and when to let me work out my anger.

Time loses meaning. My knuckles are split and bleeding, but I barely feel the pain. The waiter’s face is unrecognizable, a swollen mass of torn flesh and shattered bone. His breathing is labored, each inhale a wet, gurgling sound.

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