Page 4 of Tempting My Nemesis

"Damn it," I mutter under my breath, rubbing at the binary code tattooed on my wrist—the date that changed everything forever etched into my skin.

"What the hell are you doing, Kane?" I mutter through clenched jaws.

My fingers move rapidly over the keyboard, tracing CipherClash’s fingerprints embedded in the activity logs. The sight of Kane’s signature code makes my pulse quicken. My calm exterior—my armor against life’s uncertainty—begins to crack.

A message pings in the encrypted chat.

CipherClash has been poking around our secure servers. Want me to shut it down?

I take a deep breath, steadying myself before replying.

No. Keep tracking. I need to know what Holloway’s planning.

Memories flash—Kane's smug face during that last mission as everything went to hell. I left him behind—a necessary evil—but it still gnaws at me. And now he's back, trying to dismantle everything I've built.

I won't let him win.

My fists clench involuntarily. Losing control isn't an option—not now, not ever.

The encrypted chat pings again.

Understood, boss. We’ll keep an eye on them.

I nod to myself and continue typing commands to trace the breach further. My mind races back to that night, the betrayal as fresh as if it happened yesterday. Kane’s reappearance is a reminder of a wound that never fully healed.

"Damn you," I mutter under my breath.

Every keystroke is a battle against the chaos threatening to erupt.

My gaze shifts back to the secondary screen where alerts of CipherClash’s activity continue to ping. Each one further tightens the vice gripping my chest.

Kane won’t destroy what I've built—not Steele Ventures and certainly not Silencebreakers.

My assistant’s voice interrupts over the intercom again, "Sir, they're waiting."

"I said I'll handle it," I snap back, my tone harsher than intended.

"Yes, sir."

I take a moment to steady myself before standing and adjusting my tailored suit jacket. Every motion is calculated and disciplined. With one last glance at the terminal, I stride toward the door.

As I exit my office, another message pings on my phone.

CipherClash's activity is increasing rapidly.

Track every move

I reply tersely before pocketing my phone and heading toward the boardroom.

Inside the boardroom, expectant faces turn toward me—obedient and wary. This is my domain, where power plays out in numbers and deals.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I begin smoothly, "let's get started."

Even as I dive into projections and strategies, part of me remains tethered to that encrypted terminal—the silent battlefield where shadows move unseen and secrets wait to be unraveled.

My assistant enters my office,tablet in hand, looking apprehensive. My mind is still divided between the details of the board meeting and CipherClash’s increasing activity.

“The investors want a rundown of our cybersecurity protocols. They’ve been hearing rumors…” She trails off, sensing the tension in my stance.

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