Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
Chip’s morning was an endless list of hurried tasks, complete with a panicked journey downstairs to find Ally, only for his dad to let loose that she’d left to do some early sightseeing so Chip would have space to focus on his presentation.
Though he would have preferred to have her presence, he’d had no time to dwell, his early hours filled with checking presentation notes and slides, then choking down some toast for breakfast while racing out the door.
Encode presentation now over, he pushed through his front door and plonked his leather laptop bag to the nearby ornate upholstered chair, quick to make his way to the kitchen in search of more food. Even if his thoughts did run full speed over each minor detail of this morning’s meeting.
The Encode board would see the other candidates today, then set about critiquing and searching for any reason the code he’d provided wouldn’t work. A lot of money rode on this decision, so he couldn’t blame them. Still, he’d got a feeling from the board members that something wasn’t right this morning, and his nerves wouldn’t settle until he knew the result.
He rubbed the strain at the back of his neck and stepped into the kitchen, the room’s familiar brightness a small relief until he spotted Kelly and his dad staring back at him from their seats at the large, white marble island.
Their faces tight and wary, his dad’s arm wrapped around Kelly’s shoulder in an unusual show of support. They looked as though they’d been waiting in this room a long time.
“What’s happened?” He darted his gaze between the two, his heartbeat thudding loud in his ears.
Kelly peered at his dad again, seeming to seek support before her focus landed on Chip with a pained sort of grimace. “Ally’s gone.”
His world stilled, and he fought to decipher her full meaning, although the twisting sensation in his gut offered instant understanding. “As in, back to Harlow?”
A long silence hung in the air before Kelly’s grimace deepened and she nodded. “We’re sorry, Chip.”
His limbs turned instantly cold and numb, and he looked to his father, expecting to see a happy smirk there since Ally had done exactly as he’d wanted. But his dad’s lips held a firm line, the deepened wrinkles around his mouth denoting a man not at all pleased.
Never the sort to withhold a stare, his dad’s gaze fell to the counter, the action corroborating Kelly’s claim. “She left this morning. She asked me to lie to you about going sightseeing, although I didn’t lie about her not wanting to distract from your opportunity today.”
Despite the angry heat rushing his body, plus his desire to lay into his dad, Chip spun away and raced up the stairs. He needed proof. Needed to see his empty bedroom without the hurried eyes of a man hurtling toward his once-in-a-lifetime chance.
Screw opportunity.
Grief and panic swallowed him, and he swung his bedroom door open and stormed across the cream carpet to his wardrobe, indeed emptier than last night. Her suitcase, missing. The shelves he’d cleared for her, once again bare. He dug his phone out of his pocket. No messages there. No missed calls. She’d left. Just left.
As though she’d never been here to begin with.
The skin over his cheekbones turned impossibly taut, and he ran his hand over his mouth, sifting through his racing thoughts. He wanted to yell. He wanted to hate her. But yelling and hate were a cheap cover for pain. So he’d find something more useful, something to deal with the tidal wave of emotion crushing him now.
Ally rarely left Harlow and would be traveling alone. The phone still sat in his hand, so he’d focus on making sure she was okay.
His stomach churned as he pressed CALL on her number. Her silent exit hinted at not wanting to hear from him, but they’d known each other in ways that ran far deeper than being just lovers. They had history. Had grown up together. He couldn’t end their relationship on silence.
But she didn’t answer.
Spots flashed in his eyes over what that could mean, but he told himself that she was on her flight home already and had simply put her phone on airplane mode. She couldn’t take calls. Not that she wouldn’t take his call.
How did we get to this?
He paced the area beside his bed and refused to answer that question. He’d make another call. His sister. Maybe Sarah would know if Ally had arrived back in town.
Only, he got no answer there, either, so he tried calling Dean next.
“Hey, what’s up?” Dean’s distinct and always-easy baritone didn’t give Chip much hope he knew anything.
“Is Ally there?”
“What?” A few rustling sounds, like he had Dean’s full attention now. “Shouldn’t she be with you?”
“She left and isn’t answering her phone.”
Silence. Dean didn’t seem like the type to muse on emotions, so maybe Chip couldn’t be surprised at the man’s prolonged pause and lack of condolences. “Do you know when she left?”
Bless Dean for not asking for details on why she’d left, only for the practical facts to find her now.
“At least six hours.” Since she’d slipped out before he’d even woken that morning. “Enough time to board a plane, I guess. Maybe even catch the bus from the airport back to town.”
“Hmmm…” Dean paused, seeming to take a moment to think. “All right. Leave this with me. I’ll chat with the Egans, see if she’s there. If not, I’ll check if she’s just blocking your calls and may be willing to speak with her parents. Hey, wasn’t your big presentation today? Hell of a time for a lover’s tiff.”
Chip gave a derisive laugh. “Tell me about it. I’m living through an avalanche of bad right now.”
“Bad? What else isn’t working?”
“Okay, not bad exactly. Just, I got weird vibes at the presentation this morning”—trying to sort through his thoughts, he pinched the bridge of his nose, his unease predating learning about Ally’s exit—“their past and recent questions about my work seem out of sync with what I’m actually pitching, and when I asked the receptionist if Jay Evans, the guy who first called me about the presentation, would be in the meeting, she had no idea who I meant. I put that down to the new CEO owner doing some standard corporate reshuffling, but even then, I’ve never heard of the guy, which is unusual for this industry. He apparently owns a bigger non-tech company in New York called Laset Enterprises, so maybe I’m just imaging th—”
“Hang on. Laset Enterprises?”
“Yeah, why?”
“That name sounds familiar. Give me a minute.”
Chip’s ears filled with Dean’s muffled footsteps and then typing, like Chip must have caught Dean at home. “Was this CEO at your meeting?”
“Yeah, but he didn’t say m—.”
“Holy shit.”
“What?” An icy tingle swept down his spine. Dean wasn’t a guy all that easy to surprise, and he sounded truly shaken now. “What is it?”
“You’re right. Laset did buy out Encode, and Laset is Mark Farro’s company.”
“Mark? Mark Who?”
“Did your CEO today have blue eyes and brown wavy hair?”
“Yeah, why?”
“This is bad news. Really bad news. If there’s any chance they sought you out specifically.” Dean let out a low growl, followed by a frustrated sigh. “I need to get off the phone and find Ally. Shit, I need to break the news to Sarah too.”
“What? Ally? Sarah? Why?” Chip’s heart thundered, and sweat prickled along his hairline. A prospect far more frightening than Ally solo-traveling cross-country taking over. “This doesn’t have something to do with the Syndicate, does it?”
“Afraid so.” Dean paused, as though a couple of seconds of silence might be enough to quell the overwhelming buzz filling Chip’s ears, his nerves well and truly fried. “Mark Farro is Luciano Conti’s cousin.”
“Oh, shit.” Chip wasn’t one to swear, but he did now, pieces from the last few weeks falling into place.
“Mark’s worse than Luciano. Smarter. More covert. I’m going to need some heavy evidence to believe him buying Encode is just a coincidence.”
Dean and Chip both. Though Chip now regretted not looking deeper into Laset Enterprises, a task he’d skipped over in favor of working on Stonewall, relegating any research as something to do only if he was offered a contract.
He’d been too busy chasing success. On proving himself to his dad. On convincing Ally that a life together could work. Not only had he allowed her to pass him by this morning, he’d inadvertently put her in danger.
“I only know basic details on your Stonewall program, but my guess is”—Dean’s voice broke through Chip’s panic—“he’s done his homework on me. On Sarah. And when he found out about you and what you were working on, he saw his golden ticket to gain revenge and a profit.”
Another moment passed, and Chip’s mind hooked on the questions Encode had lobbed at him over these weeks—the implications of reverse engineering Stonewall, and how his code could be misused. Then his thoughts jumped to the fact that Mark Farro might hurt anyone Chip loved. Maybe even Ally.
“As of this morning, he has access to my code. This is bad.” He shot to his feet and headed out of his room. “I need to fix this.”
In seconds, he raced down the stairs, collecting his laptop bag on his way out the front door. “Dean, find Ally for me. I’m on my way.”
Mark’s focus faded from the woman speaking ahead of him in the long boardroom. Despite the potential in this candidate’s idea and his love of making money, his mind clung to nothing but closing his deal with Chip Overton.
Even if he already had access to Chip’s partly finished code, he wanted Stonewall in its entirety—he wanted Chip’s signature in a watertight contract—and thus, control of his work as well as the man himself.
Every bit of research he’d done on Chip, on his idea, on his future potential, said this investment would pay out. And so far, everything was going to plan.
Mark sat taller and listened a little closer to the woman’s ideas on tracking customer’s online behavior, although she had zero chance of winning the Graduate grant over Chip. Maybe in time, Mark would find the headspace to approach this lady with some other offer.
“Boss.” The man beside Mark, his new lead tech, cleared his throat and leaned in closer. “Something’s not right.”
His rough and low voice added weight to his words, and his attention didn’t shift from the laptop in front of him. “Overton’s work. It’s disappearing.”
The man shot his gaze to Mark, his eyes wide and his jaw slack as he spun the laptop to face Mark. Line after line of code vanished, white space taking over where reams of precious information once lived.
“Fuck!” Mark shot out of his chair, his voice ricocheting within the room’s wide, glass walls. “Overton knows.”
The five others around him stood. His most trusted associates. Each one in on the plan to seize Chip and Stonewall. Meanwhile, the candidate fell silent, her gaze sweeping over the group of suddenly animated people.
He stabbed a finger at his tech lead. “Save what you can.”
The man’s blank stare confirmed what Mark already knew. There wasn’t much to save. And still, he barked out a final order. “Now!” As if demanding the impossible would salvage his fast-sinking dreams. No, he’d sought to avoid Luciano’s more brutish methods. Tried civilized over barbaric. But this world was not a civil place, and Rudolph Manzinni would not forgive repeated failure.
That disappearing code took away Mark’s chances of breaking even with the Syndicate, much less the money he’d already sunk into buying Encode. And then there was protecting his family and redeeming everyone’s broken dignity.
But now, dignity only sank deeper into the gutter, and that was all Chip Overton’s fault. Mark would have no choice but to set new rules.
Cruel incentives to force Chip on board.
“Find out where Chip Overton is and find the woman who accompanied him to last night’s gala. She’s our leverage.” He addressed his head of security while storming out the boardroom, his team of five already sticking close, and leaving the gawping female candidate behind. “Take no shortcuts. Spare nothing and nobody. Just find them. You hear me? He’ll do what I say or lose everyone he cares about. His woman dies first.”