Chapter 4 The Web Tightens

Liana's POV

The office smelled like paper, coffee, and ink.

Every breath I took reminded me that something was off.

The air felt stale, recirculated through vents that hummed faintly overhead, carrying the faint metallic tang of overheated electronics and yesterday's burnt coffee grounds from the break room machine.

I sat at my desk, staring at the blinking cursor on my monitor as if it held the answers to everything. It didn't. But it was a start.

My headache pulsed subtly behind my eyes. I made a mental note to get painkillers later.

A dull throb started at my temples, spreading like ink in water, familiar from prison nights, but sharper now, as if something vital had been scraped away while I slept.

Something important gnawed at the edge of my mind, but I couldn't remember what.

I picked up my cup and headed to the kitchen area, I made myself a cup of instant lemonade. It was bitter, with a hint of saccharine, which I weirdly liked.

The powder clumped at first, refusing to dissolve; I stirred harder, the spoon scraping plastic with a grating sound that set my teeth on edge. The cold liquid hit my throat sharp and artificial, doing nothing for the fog in my head.

Back at my desk, I opened my emails. Nothing suspicious.

But I already knew better.

I pulled up the secure folder I had created yesterday. Empty.

My breath hitched.

No. That's not possible.

I checked again. Refresh. Re-log. Nothing.

The timestamp discrepancy I had saved the detail was gone.

I know I saved it. I remember doing it.

Except... I don't. Not clearly.

It's like trying to recall a dream after waking up.

The edges are there, but the substance? Missing.

Fingers curling into fists beneath the desk, one night, my mind racing. I forced myself to breathe.

My nails dug into my palms, leaving half-moon indents. The screen blurred for a second.

Panic won't help. Panicking never does.

"Morning, bestie."

Lucy's voice cut through my thoughts.

With a cup of coffee in hand and smiling.

"You left pretty fast yesterday," she said lightly. "Everything okay?"

I met her eyes, searching for cracks, guilt, anything. Nothing was obvious.

Her smile curved perfectly, but the light didn't reach her eyes, flat blue, watchful. Steam from her coffee curled between us, carrying the rich, bitter scent that used to mean safety, now just another layer of mask.

"Just tired," I replied. "Didn't feel like socializing."

Her smile tightened just a fraction.

"Same. Though you missed a lot of chatter."

Of course I did.

"Did you know Danielle had a boyfriend? He came to pick her up yesterday. And everyone knows Brenton likes her. He must have been so sad."

I turned back to my screen. "I'm sure."

She lingered.

"By the way," Lucy added casually, "Graham wants an updated permissions audit by end of day. He said it's urgent."

Urgent.

The word landed like a threat.

"Did he say why?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Something about tightening security. Funny timing, right?"

Her shrug was too casual. She turned away, heels clicking softer than usual, as if measuring each step.

Lucy walked away, her heels clicking the marble floor. I stared at my screen, pulse ticking faster with every second.

I opened the access logs again.

There it was.

The same discrepancy.

The same timestamp.

Right where I remembered it. Except this time, I couldn't recall finding it before.

My stomach twisted.

So I didn't imagine it.

But I forgot how I found it. That's worse.

I grabbed my hair in frustration. "What is going on with me?" I groaned, glaring at the cup of processed lemonade.

"Hey, Bennett."

Brian.

He walked over like he owned the space. He smelled like cheap cologne and mint. He was too close for my liking

He leaned against my divider, arm brushing the edge, close enough I felt the warmth off his sleeve.

"Did you see Graham this morning?" he asked. "He's on edge."

I kept my eyes on my screen. "He's always on edge."

Brian chuckled. "Yeah, but this is different. He's been asking about file access histories. Old ones."

Old ones.

My spine stiffened.

"And?" I asked carefully.

He lowered his voice. "He specifically mentioned your name."

Of course he did.

I finally looked at him. He was grinning, a bead of sweat at his temple.

Interesting.

"Why would he do that?" I asked.

Brian hesitated. Just a beat too long. "I mean... you're good at your job. He probably wants you to help him clean up, as usual."

Clean. That word again.

"Right," I said. "Thanks for the heads-up."

He lingered, eyes flicking to my lips, then back to the screen. "If you need help," he added softly,

"I'm around."

I didn't answer.

Why would I need his help?

He left, his feet dragging behind him.

I leaned back, eyes drifting across the office. Lucy talking to someone from IT. Brian leaning on Sasha's divider, listening to her talk about her four cats he probably didn't care about.

They were moving. So was I.

At noon, Graham called a brief department meeting. Standing at the head of the table, fingers drumming against the glass.

The glass tabletop reflected his flushed face in distorted waves; each drum of his fingers sent tiny vibrations up my arms through the wood.

"We've identified potential vulnerabilities in our internal systems," he said. "Effective immediately, all data access will be reviewed. No exceptions."

My stomach dropped.

"This includes analysts," he continued, eyes flicking across the room "with elevated permissions."

There it was. A test.

"Any questions?" he snapped.

I raised my hand. The room stilled.

"What's the scope of the review?" I asked, my voice even. "And who's conducting it?"

Graham's jaw tightened. "Internal," he said. "Led by me."

Of course it was.

"That's a conflict of interest," I said calmly, my heart racing. "Standard protocol would require an independent reviewer."

A ripple passed through the room.

Martha froze. Brian's face was drained of color.

Graham's thin smile sharpened. "Are you questioning my authority, Bennett?"

I met his gaze. "I'm protecting the company," I said, pointing to the goals and mission on the screen. "Isn't that the goal?"

For a moment, I thought he might explode. Then, he smiled.

"Meeting adjourned," he said. "Bennett, stay."

Alone now, he stepped closer. "This is why I like you, Bennett," he said quietly. "You're smart, you think things through. How about I propose an idea?"

My blood ran cold.

I left his office five minutes later, heart pounding.

Back at my desk, fingers flexing, trying to steady my thoughts.

"Liana!"

I jumped.

Brian.

"Coffee break? Figured you could use a little human interaction."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm good," I said. "I've had plenty of coffee already."

Lucy approached, eyes lingering on Brian.

"You were... intense today," she said. "It was about time someone stood up to Graham. Brave of you."

I didn't respond immediately. Just watched her.

"It's been tense lately," she added, voice soft.

What does she mean by that?

I leaned back, ran my hands over the keyboard. I created another folder. Wrote some notes. Things I remembered. Things to avoid.

The keys felt sticky again, resistant; each tap echoed louder in my head than it should have. The new folder blinked into existence, it was a small victory.

I couldn't trust anyone around me, but I could trust myself.

The day blurred into evening.

Brian wandered near my desk again. Probably the fourth time today. He walked too quickly. A flicker in my peripheral vision.

Why does he keep looking at my screen?

I didn't dwell on it. It was time to go home.

Outside, the city darkened. Streetlights flickered. Rain threatened again. It is always raining in this city.

The Thames shone faintly, reflecting the sunset.

Somewhere, someone was already planning their next move.

But this time, I had the advantage.

Foresight. Knowledge.

Tomorrow, I will strike again.