Chapter 8
Marcus Vance walked toward the center of the lobby with a measured, deliberate stride, his presence commanding immediate silence. Robert Miller quickly lowered his pointing hand, a strained, tense smile instantly replacing his furious expression as he turned to face his superior.
"Marcus, I apologize for this disgraceful spectacle," Robert said smoothly, though a faint sweat glistened on his forehead. "This is simply a private family dispute involving my daughter, who, as you know, was recently terminated following the security breach. She’s... experiencing some mental distress and is fabricating wild stories to avoid accountability."
Maya stepped forward, ignoring her father’s desperate attempt to paint her as unstable. "Mr. Vance, my father is lying to protect his son. I have the cryptographic packet logs proving the malware originated from the home network via an administrative override that only my brother possesses. My father refused to look at the evidence and threw me out of the house last night."
Vance stopped in his tracks, his sharp eyes shifting from Robert’s panicked expression to Maya’s unwavering gaze. The chief operations officer had built his entire career on absolute transparency and rigorous data integrity; the mere suggestion of a falsified internal investigation was something he could not simply ignore.
"Is this true, Robert?" Vance asked quietly, his voice dangerously calm. "You told me the audit was conclusive and pointed exclusively to an external breach executed via her workstation."
"Marcus, you can't possibly listen to a disgruntled teenager over company protocol!" Robert protested, his voice rising in panic. "She’s manipulating server logs she illegally downloaded before her termination!"
"Then let an independent forensic team verify the logs," Maya countered instantly, stepping closer and holding out the encrypted thumb drive on the flat of her palm. "Mr. Vance, I am handing you the raw, unedited transmission records right now. Check the cryptographic signatures. If I altered a single byte, you can hand me over to the police yourself."
Vance stared at the small piece of plastic and metal in Maya’s hand for a long, agonizing moment. Then, slowly, he extended his hand and took the drive. He turned to one of the security guards flanking him. "Take this directly to IT security. Have Chief Systems Architect Miller—the senior one, not the intern—run a level-four verification on these cryptographic hashes immediately. I want a complete report on my desk in thirty minutes."
May you like
"Yes, Mr. Vance," the guard replied, taking the drive and turning quickly toward the private elevators.
Robert Miller looked like he had just been struck physically. The fragile illusion of control he had maintained over his household and his career was rapidly crumbling around him, and there was nothing left he could do to stop the inevitable fall.
