<b>Chapter 115 </b>
“Nicole,” Sutton said, steady, staring him down like she was daring him to deny i
its
Luca blinked. “Nicole?”
“She was the only one with high enough ess. She’s the only one who’s been gunning for me since the very second she walked into the building. And let’s not pretend she didn’t know what she was doing when she turned off my software protecting the Kingstons‘ server.”
He stepped back like the usation had physically hit him.
“You think Nicole… Jesus, Sutton, she’s been with me for
ears.
“Exactly. She knows your systems. She thinks you won’t suspect her. And she knew that my program would protect Kingston. She wanted it gone. She med me as soon as I walked in… This has her written all over it.”
“She’s my second,” he said, quieter this time. “Nicole has handled entire acquisitions. She’s been loyal.<b>” </b>
“To you,” Sutton shot back. “Not to me. Not to Cyber10. She hates me, Luca. She looks at me like I’m gum stuck to her fucking shoes. I don’t know <b>what </b>the problem is with me… but she has been a bitch to me since day one. Ask Jake if you don’t believe me. Or Stacey.”
He exhaled hard, jaw clenched. “I’ve seen… glimpses of that. Her attitude. The looks. But Sutton, a shitty attitude–yes<b>, </b>okay–is still <b>a </b>long way from coordinated sabotage.”
Sutton’s voice cracked a little, fury fraying into something sharper. “Do you honestly think I’d bring this up just to start drama? You think I’m imagining <b>it</b><b>? </b>That I’m just a hormonal pregnant woman with a grudge?”
“No,” he said quickly. “That’s not what I meant. Or even said.”
“She’s been trying to push me out of the business from day one,” Sutton said, stepping into his space. “And I swear to God, if you let her get away with this, I swear…”
His hand came up, resting against his forehead. “Sutton-”
“No,” she snapped. “No one else would do this, Luca. It’s not even thatplicated. It’s just… obvious.”
He stepped in then, fast. “I can’t point <b>a </b>finger at anyone until I have proof.”
The air crackled between them. Close. Too close.
“She had to pay <i>someone </i>to release the virus on Kingston. It’s not the same person asst time. The signature was different.” Sutton moved to step out of his space, but he caught her elbow<i>, </i>stopping her from moving anywhere. The feel of his touch made her breath stop for a second.
“I’ll look into it,” he said, low. “I promise you that.”
“And if it is her?”
“I’ll deal with it.” His voice was quiet, but there was weight behind it. Regret. Resolve.
She stared at him. He stared back. The silence stretched until her skin started to feel tight; the blood was rushing in her ears<b>, </b>too loud.
Sutton could feel the pull toward him. Everything she had been through would be so easy to forget if he <b>just </b>looked at her <b>the </b>way <b>he </b><b>used </b><b>to</b><b>. </b><b>And </b><b>he </b>
was<b>. </b>
<b>“</b><b>You’ll </b>need my help,” she said finally. “I’ve sand–boxed the virus. I <b>can </b>trace it back and find <b>out </b><b>who </b>created it<b>.</b>”
“I <b>don’t </b>want you in <b>danger</b><b>. </b><b>If </b>someone was willing <b>to </b>get paid <b>to </b><b>create </b>a <b>virus</b>, <b>they </b>could <b>be </b><b>dangerous </b><b>enough </b><b>to </b><b>hurt </b><b>you </b><b>to </b><b>stop </b><b>it </b><b>from </b><bing </b><b>out </b><b>Luca’s </b>voice hardened <b>as </b>he pulled her <b>up </b><b>against </b>his chest.
<b>Sutton </b>tried <b>to </b>focus on the conversation, not the heat of his body pressed into hers. It took her <b>a </b>moment to get her thoughts <b>together</b><b>. </b><b>“</b>I’m hiding behind your firewall and it’s <b>a </b>Cyber 10 station. There’s no way of knowing it’s me.”
She shrugged, lips twitching into a crooked grin. “Plus, I’m too good to be caught.”
<b>Luca’s </b>nostrils red. “Cocky.”
“No, I’m just that good, and I know it.” She tipped her head, gaze sharpening. “The only one we need to worry about is Nicole. Can you contain <b>her</b><b>?” </b>
“Icould send her back to Europe,” he said slowly, his tone careful, calcting. “But if you’re right, that could create an even bigger problem. She might panic. Start covering tracks. Or get reckless<b>.</b><b>” </b>
He frowned down at her, like the weight of everything was finally catching up. “I <i>know </i>it makes sense. I just… how sure <i>are </i>you it’s Nicole<b>?</b><b>” </b>
Sutton didn’t hesitate. “How about ny percent sure? I can’t be one hundred percent, no one can without hard proof. But it’s the only thing <b>that </b>makes sense. The only three people who could have disabled the coding in the Kingston system were you, me, and Nicole.”
Luca sighed, long and heavy.
He knew she was right.
And he looked disappointed, not just in Nicole, but in himself. How long would he have ignored the change in Nicole had he not been involved <b>with </b>Sutton? But he trusted Sutton on a level he couldn’t trust anyone else.
“She’s not just my second,” he said after a beat. “She’s my friend.”
Sutton didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.
And for a long moment, neither did he. Not for a long time.
He just stood there, inches from her, jaw tight, his breath shallow like he was bracing for a punch that still hadn’tnded.
Sutton didn’t move either. Didn’t say anything… shocked partly that he trusted her.
It felt like if she did, something would snap. Something already frayed to the point of splitting.
“I trusted her,” he said, finally. Quiet. Almost like he didn’t mean to say it aloud.
“I know,<i>” </i>Sutton replied, her voice soft now. Less fire. Just exhaustion.
“I just don’t understand why she would do this.”
“Luca, I really don’t think this is about you… well, it is, but it’s more about me. If hurting one of your businesses was the price <b>of </b>getting rid of me, then maybe that was her n. Not to destroy you…just to get rid of me.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know.” Sutton’s voice dipped, almost a whisper now. “And you might have toe to terms <b>with </b>the fact that you may never <b>know</b><b>. </b><b>Some </b>people’s brains are not wired likeputers<b>.” </b>
He didn’t respond. Just stared at her like he was still trying to make sense of everything of Nicole, <b>of </b>himself, of the space between them that kept <b>getting </b>harder to ignore.
Sutton shifted under his gaze, her heart thudding. She wasn’t <b>sure </b><b>if </b><b>it </b>was from the fight or the way he was looking <b>at </b><b>her </b><b>now</b>, <b>like </b><b>he </b><b>saw </b>her. <b>Really </b>
<b>saw </b>her.
“I don’t know how I missed it,” he murmured, more to himself <b>than </b>her. <b>“</b><b>I </b>should’ve seen it.”
“You weren’t looking,” she said, gently. “But you are now.”
The air between them thickened. He was still holding her elbow, fingers brushing the edge of her sleeve. His touch wasn’t forceful<b>, </b>just… tethering<b>. </b>Like <b>if </b>he let go, he might lose something more than just this moment.
Her eyes flicked to his mouth before she could stop herself.
He saw. And that was all it took.
Luca leaned in, slow but certain, like he’d been waiting for permission and finally got it. His hand slid from her arm to the small of her back as his mouth met hers tentatively at first, like testing the weight of something fragile.
Then deeper.
Like he’d been holding it in too long.
Sutton didn’t think. Didn’t breathe. She just kissed him back.
And for the first time in days, maybe longer, everything stopped spinning.
She felt like she hade home.