Page 72 of The Mogul: Leonard

“That’s the weird part. He showed up at the door saying they were doing some kind of work in the neighborhood and he needed to check our connection. We didn’t even have time to call them,” he says, frowning.

Leonard gives me a meaningful look. “Because he couldn’t answer the internet provider company’s call, so he intercepted them before they could do anything.”

Spike’s eyes narrow as he processes this. “He was very convincing, and we had no doubt he was someone legit. So, you think this guy used my apartment to hack…what, your company?”

He looks at Leonard in disbelief, and Leonard shifts uncomfortably. I know there’s no good blood between them, but the accusatory tone in my ex-roommate’s voice is obviously grating on his nerves more than it should. It’s not just my freedom at stake right now—his company’s credibility is on the line too.

“Not exactly,” I say, jumping over a couple of passed-out partygoers as I make my way to the router. “It’s more like they used my network as a cover. But they didn’t know I have a secret back door to every network I put up. It lets me trace any traffic back to its original source. A bit of a simplification, but more or less, that’s how it works.”

Spike scratches his head, still looking bewildered. “Okay…so, you’re saying you can find out who’s really behind this?”

Leonard is unusually quiet. I want to reach out and hold his hand, but I know that while it would be acceptable in the privacy of his home, it’s a different matter in public. He has to maintain his business mogul facade, and sometimes I feel sorry for him. The situation doesn’t look good for my freedom, but I can’t forget that this is his life, and he is watching it crumble before his eyes.

“That’s the idea.” I pull out my laptop and connect it to the router. The network boots up slowly, like it’s too tired of the PlayStation, too, and I begin running a trace through my backdoor software. I can feel Leonard’s gaze on me, waiting, but I focus on the screen.

After what seems like an eternity, I pinpoint the ping’s origin. My heart sinks as I recognize the source. I don’t know whether to laugh or scream.

“It’s from your company.” The words come out strained, full of confusion and frustration that almost spills out of me in waves. It doesn’t make sense. Why would someone from within Leonard’s own company be going to such lengths to frame me?

Leonard leans over, staring at the screen, his expression a mix of shock and anger. “This can’t be right. I would know if there was someone inside working against us.”

“Unless it’s someone very high up or very well hidden,” I mutter, my mind racing through the possibilities. The company’s secure, but I know better than anyone that no system is unbreakable.

Spike crosses his arms, watching us both with a smug expression. “So, let me get this straight. Some big-shot tech company is hacking through my crappy Wi-Fi?”

“Not hacking, exactly. More like using it as a disguise,” I say, rubbing my temples. “They’re trying to make it look like I’m the one behind this breach. And if the FBI finds out…”

Spike’s face darkens as he realizes the gravity of what I’m saying. “So, what now?”

I look at Leonard, who’s still staring at the screen in disbelief. “Now,” I say, steeling myself, “we figure out who’s behind this inside your company. Because if they’ve gone to these lengths, they’re not just trying to sabotage us—they’re trying to destroy me.”

And that thought is scary enough to consider leaving the country.

27

Leonard

My fingers hesitate over the keyboard as I type in the final IP address from our employee logs. I didn’t think I’d ever have to check this one. My stomach clenches when the line lights up, confirming the match with the pings that have been triggering the recent breaches.

I lean back in my chair, feeling like the ground beneath me has disappeared. The name staring back at me doesn’t feel real. Oliver. My best friend. My partner since day one. He’s the one stealing from us. From me. It’s a betrayal so deep that, for a moment, I can’t breathe.

“Leonard…” Roxanne’s voice cuts into the silence. It’s soft and cautious, like she’s as shocked as I am, but she doesn’t want to rub it in. Her eyes stay glued to the screen, processing the same information I am. She looks at me, incredulous, as if trying to figure out what to say, but the sympathy behind her eyes only makes this ache deeper, rawer. I want to push her sympathy away. I don’t need it, I don’t want it. The only thing I need is answers.

“What the hell is he thinking?” The words come out raspy and pained. “Oliver’s been with me since the beginning. We built this together. And now he—” My voice chokes in my throat. I can’t finish the sentence. I don’t want to because it feels too real.

Roxanne lets out a breath, her fingers brushing her lips as if she’s not sure what to say. “Leonard, I… I’m sorry. I know how close you two are.”

I nod, barely hearing her. Memories of late nights working in our first office, taking calls, drinking coffee, strategizing, and trusting him with everything flash through my mind like a cruel movie. Oliver had been distant lately, tense since the divorce, irritable, and snapping at everyone. But I never thought—I never imagined he would do something so hideous.

“He was the one who wanted more security,” I say, bitterness coating every word. “He was the one pushing for tighter systems, more firewalls. And now he’s using those exact protocols against us.”

“Maybe that’s why he wanted them in place,” Roxanne murmurs, her voice dark with understanding. “So he could know exactly how to get around them.”

I grimace, gripping the edge of the desk until my knuckles go white. The humiliation of missing the signs, of trusting him completely, burns in my chest. “Oliver’s been a jerk for months, and I just assumed it was stress. But he’s been planning this the whole time, hasn’t he? And I didn’t see it. I trusted him. One year. The first transaction is one year old.” I don’t even dare to look her in the eyes. How was I so blind?

Roxanne’s hand hovers near my shoulder, and for a second, I feel like she might reach out to comfort me. But she doesn’t. “Leonard, you trusted him because you believed in him. That’s not your fault.”

“Believed,” I repeat the word. It tastes bitter on my tongue. A laugh escapes before I can stop it. “He was my friend, Roxanne. We built this from nothing. You don’t doubt that kind of loyalty.”

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