Chapter 24
JACKSON
Iwant to stay here forever, lying beside my woman.
When I carried her to bed, I didn’t expect her to wake up so ready, so animated, so hot.
She owned that moment. Owned me. It was heaven watching and feeling her ride me, grinding up and down with that look of confidence on her face.
I’m getting hard now just thinking about it… and it was only a couple hours ago.
Standing quietly, I look down at her, curled into a ball, a sleepy smile on her face. I brush the hair from her face, kiss her on the cheek, then turn and reluctantly make for the door.
We’ve got a big release coming up. There’s always more to do.
I drive home, shower, and change, then head into the office. This means driving past Dakota’s apartment again. I stop outside, snapping a photo of her building.
I attach the image to my test.
Jack: You’re probably still sleeping. Just know I’d much rather be in there with you.
The moment I walk into the office, I know something is up. Pete and Damon Reed—our cybersecurity specialist—are waiting for me in the lobby. I know it’s bad when, in the short time it takes me to cross the lobby, Pete removes and replaces his glasses three times.
Damon shifts from foot to foot beside him, a lean man with tattoos spiraling up and down his arms. His severe frown tells me this is bad.
“Don’t tell me the servers have been hacked,” I say.
Pete looks at me, not like the man who co-founded this company with me, not like my media guru… he looks at me like my friend, like the boy who burst into tears of joy when dropping out of college somehow worked out for the best.
“Let’s talk in your office,” Pete says.
“Fuck that.” I gesture at the lobby, empty apart from the security guys on the opposite side of the room. “Just tell me here.”
Pete removes his glasses again.
“Pete—enough with the glasses. Tell me. Now.”
He sighs. “Messages between TheRealCreator and DakkyDuck have been leaked to the public. In the messages, you both?—”
“Use each other’s real names. Have virtual sex. Talk about how much we care about each other.”
Panic grips me. I’ve anticipated this moment so many times. But somehow, I didn’t know it’d slam into me this hard. It’s like our business is turning to sand, and I can feel it drifting through my fingertips.
Of course, this had to happen after last night. It was too perfect. We were too close. The world is a goddamn joke.
“Has anybody picked them up?” I ask.
“They were leaked to a few websites. They’ve got articles up already. There’s already buzz on social media too.”
“We need a plan of attack,” I snap.
Pete nods. “That’s why we came in early.”
“My office,” I say, striding toward the elevator. “Damon, how did this happen?”
“This came from inside,” he tells me as we ride the elevator up.
“Someone from inside leaked this shit? Someone from Halcyon?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Damon says.
“Son of a bitch,” I roar, smashing my fist into the elevator wall.
I feel like a kid having a tantrum when I snatch my fist away, my knuckles bloody.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
They both look shocked that I’d even think this word, let alone say it, which says a lot about the man I was before I found Dakota.
“Give me a list of suspects,” I snap. “Whoever this is, they’re never working in this industry again. Hell, they might even face prison time. How did they even get access?”
Damon looks at the floor like he thinks he’s going to take the wall’s place. The elevator doors open and we walk into the antechamber of my office.
“There was a weak point in the end-to-end encryption,” he says. “We’re protected against outside sources. I’m certain of that. But I didn’t anticipate somebody using internal access for the private chat logs in test levels. We’re already working on closing the loophole.”
“Anything else?” I ask.
Damon shakes his head.
I nod at the elevator. “Then keep working. Pete, come on.”
In my office, I go straight to my desk and grab a tennis ball. Squeeze it. Crush it immediately. I grab another and try to treat it a little nicer. I feel manic, like I’ve mainlined ten cups of coffee straight through my eyeballs.
“What’s the play here?” I ask.
“Can I use your laptop?”
“You don’t need to talk to me like you’re afraid of me.”
He grins tightly. “Then you don’t need to act so scary, boss.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He grabs my laptop, opens it, types in the passcode—he’s the only other person who knows it—and then starts tapping. A minute later, he sighs tiredly.
“What is it?” I demand, pacing.
“The story is spreading. Dakota’s name is starting to appear in articles, as well as her photo.”
“Are the headlines being kind to her?” I ask.
He shakes his head slowly. “It’s just what you thought. Here’s one. Seductive Streamer DakkyDuck Bags Billionaire Jackson Cross.”
“That’s not even close to the truth,” I snap. “She didn’t bag me. We chose this. Together. Are they all like that?”
“Half are accusing her of being a—” He stops when I give him a dark look. “Of using you. The other half are accusing you of using your power to your advantage.”
“I knew we were playing with fire.” Pop. Another tennis ball bites the dust. I toss the remains into the trash and grab a third. “I knew it, Petey. But somehow, I didn’t want to believe it.”
“The whole team wants to meet,” Pete tells me. “This is going to require a coordinated PR effort.”
“I’m yours to command,” I say gruffly. “This isn’t my skillset. At all. When’s the meeting?”
He checks his watch. “Twenty-two minutes. We’ll…” He trails off, staring at the screen in complete shock. “Did you assault a trucker at a diner?”
I drop into my chair heavily, a surreal chuckle escaping me that has no humor in it at all.
“No,” I say. “I threatened him because he behaved like a creep to Dakota. Commented on her body, wouldn’t take no for an answer, tried to play the victim when I called him out.”
“The video shows you walking toward him like you’re ready to tear his head off,” he murmurs, watching it. I can see the reflection in his glasses. “Then it cuts. The trucker, Trent Stillwell, says that after the video ended, you put your hand on his arm and dragged him out of the diner.”
“He was already halfway out,” I snap. “And as much as I wanted to crack his head like an egg, I didn’t lay a finger on him.”
Pete grits his teeth.
“This is bad, isn’t it?” I say.
“Bro…” He unclenches his teeth with an effort. “It’s more than bad. If this isn’t handled correctly, this could be the end.”