Page 133 of Stolen Vows

I force myself to take a breath, struggling to tamp down the rising tide of anger and self-recrimination.

Then how the hell am I seeing this?

I switch screens, pulling up my security network, scanning for breaches. There’s nothing, which means . . .

Horror slams into me. This feed isn’t on my computer. It’s ontheirs.

Blackwire Collective hacked into Francesca’s tablet.

47

GRAHAM

Why.And how. And when did they start.

And who hired them.

I force myself to think logically, pushing past the red haze clouding my vision. There has to be a reason they targeted her, some motivation behind this violation. Is it retaliation for me freezing their assets and taking them down? Seems unlikely considering I just did that minutes ago.

A slow, sharp breath pushes through my teeth. If they’ve hacked her tablet to watch her, then they’ve probably piggy-backed to her other devices. Which means they’ve already touched mine.

“Fucking motherfuckers,” I seethe.

My encryption. My firewalls. My entire fucking system. All my goddamn personal data network. Sentinel and Oracle. Everything is in danger.

I push back from my desk, barely registering the screech of my chair against the floor.

“I have to shut it down,” I mutter.

But before I can move, the camera feed goes black. Text appears on the screen.

ring around the Frankie

pocket fulls of posies

ashes to ashes

you will fall down

My pulse slows, then flattens. The initial jolt of fury crystallizes into something far more dangerous.

They think this is a game, but they’re wrong. And I’m going to show them exactly what happens when someone threatens my wife.

I’m moving before I consciously decide to, my body reacting on pure instinct. My feet pound down the stairs, taking them two at a time as I race toward the basement. The house is silent around me, but my pulse roars in my ears, drowning out everything else.

I hit the landing and round the corner, my hand slapping against the wall to keep my balance as I hurtle down the narrow hallway. The door to the server room looms ahead,

I fling open the door to the server room and flick on the lights. The massive array of computing power hums to life, illuminating the darkened space.

I stride to the control console and start powering down my entire system. It’s a last resort, a nuclear option. But I can’t risk them gaining access to anything else. My personal files, Sentinel, Oracle. It all has to go dark for at least twenty-four hours, twenty if I’m lucky.

As the servers whir and click, shutting down one by one, my mind races. The nursery rhyme, the threat against Francesca. It’s a message

My blood runs cold as the implication sinks in. This isn’t just a taunt or a prank. It’s a warning. A promise of destruction.

The urge to hunt down every last member of Blackwire Collective and make them pay thrums through my veins. But I force myself to focus. Revenge can wait.

The front door opens upstairs. Romeo’s nails skitter across the floor as he comes bounding in first. Then Francesca’s familiar footfalls.

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