Chapter 3 Intensity Attack
Midnight at the Caldwell Mansion.
Henry slumped in his leather executive chair, swirling expensive whiskey in his glass.
The soft clink of ice cubes echoed through the oppressive silence of his study. His mind kept drifting back to Sophia—that impossibly young face with its unnervingly calm demeanor, and her cutting words at the luxury boutique.
Those clear, almost artificial eyes of hers had scanned him like some kind of human X-ray, penetrating the careful facade he'd built around himself.
"Henry? Henry!" A crisp voice, tinged with annoyance, cut through his reverie.
Henry snapped back to reality. Thomas stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, arms crossed, sunlight outlining his youthful, handsome features. His brother's face, usually full of boyish charm, now bore a distinct frown of disapproval.
"I've been talking to you. What's got you so distracted?" Thomas dropped onto the sofa across from him, casually draping his long legs over the armrest. "Susan called me in tears today. Said you humiliated her in the store and sided with some random girl against her. What the hell happened?"
Henry set down his glass, absently running his fingertip along its cold rim.
"Random girl?" he echoed, his deep voice betraying nothing. "Keep your people in check, Thomas."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Thomas's brow furrowed, youthful exuberance giving way to displeasure. "Susan's been our friend since childhood. Sure, she can be entitled, but she's not a bad person."
He continued, "And this woman? Susan said she was dressed like a college student. Since when did your taste—"
"Enough." Henry cut him off, raising his eyes with a quiet intensity that commanded attention. "Susan conspired with the store manager to lie and appropriate merchandise a customer had her eye on. She leveraged her connections to pressure the staff. That's not just entitlement—it's a character flaw and it damages the Caldwell Corporation's reputation."
He paused, recalling the blur of Sophia's fingers across her phone screen and the security footage that appeared. "And that 'girl' is more than she seems. She's not someone Susan should cross. If your girlfriend wants to keep her job, she should steer clear."
Thomas bristled, his pride visibly wounded. He opened his mouth to retort when a shrill ringtone sliced through their standoff.
Henry glanced at the screen—his secretary's emergency line—and answered immediately. "Speak."
The voice on the other end was breathless with panic. "Mr. Henry Caldwell! The Marketing Department's core data servers are under heavy attack! Their methods are incredibly sophisticated—our firewalls are failing! Sensitive client information and bid proposals are at risk of exposure! The tech team is at a loss!"
Henry's pupils contracted sharply, his earlier distraction instantly replaced by razor focus. "The Marketing Department's data is the lifeblood of the Caldwell Corporation! Initiate highest-level emergency protocols immediately! Alert the technology director's team—"
"The consultant team is trying, but the attack is too aggressive. They don't think they can hold out!" The secretary voice was nearly breaking. "The attacker left some kind of strange marker in the system—like a fragmented circular pattern!"
A fragmented circular pattern?
Henry's heart sank.
At the airport, when that girl had hacked the charging system, he'd caught a glimpse of a similar complex geometric fragment on her screen.
Coincidence?
No. She'd instantly recognized the fake Tears of the Galaxy and precisely disabled every security camera in the store, even in the blind spots. The pieces suddenly connected in his mind.
"Find someone for me," Henry commanded, his tone leaving no room for debate. "A woman—a top-tier hacker who just arrived in Virensia today. Use every resource, spare no expense. Find her and get her help. Now."
At eleven that night, Sophia stood before the villa, twirling the key between her fingers. She glanced up at the light burning on the second floor and allowed herself a cold smile.
As she pushed open the door, the rich aroma of chicken soup with rosemary and thyme enveloped her.
Sophia's nostrils flared slightly as she detected something discordant beneath the savory herbs—the sweet scent of Heartthread Vine, a substance that in slightly larger doses could cause cardiac arrhythmia.
"Sophia? Oh, you're finally home!" Olivia Dawson hurried from the kitchen wearing an apron, her feigned surprise not quite reaching her eyes—clearly, she'd anticipated Sophia's return.
She reached for Sophia's backpack but was subtly rebuffed.
"Making soup this late?" Sophia's gaze drifted to the clay pot steaming on the stove.
"Tomorrow is the anniversary of your mother's death..." Olivia's eyes glistened, her voice soft. "I thought you'd want to pay your respects, so I made something nourishing. Will you take it for me?"
Sophia said nothing, walking to the kitchen to examine the herbs floating in the broth, noting its suspicious yellowish tint.
Without warning, she ladled a spoonful, watching Olivia's pupils contract as she raised it to her lips.
"Three-year-old Heartthread Vine," she said quietly. "Peeled, sliced, and soaked in honey to delay the effects." The soup trickled from her tilted spoon onto the tile floor. "You miscalculated the dosage, Olivia."
The color drained from Olivia's face. She hadn't counted on Sophia teaching herself toxicology abroad as a survival skill.
Olivia quickly forced a smile. "Sophia, what are you talking about? I would never—"
"Don't worry. When Dad gets back, I won't tell him." Sophia slung her backpack over her shoulder. "He trusts you so completely—busy planning your wedding rather than investigating my mother's death."
She turned toward the stairs. "Keep the soup for yourself. Don't trouble yourself."
The room at the end of the second-floor hallway remained untouched. Sophia locked the door behind her and retrieved a faded medicine pouch from a hidden compartment in the desk—the last thing her mother had left behind.
Carefully, she emptied the dried herb remnants, examining them under the desk lamp. Her fingers sifted through the withered plants, confirming they matched the toxins from the original autopsy report.
Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the dark currents in her eyes.
"Did you think I wouldn't recognize it just because you changed the recipe, Olivia?" she whispered. "How dedicated you are—trying the same method on me that failed with my mother."