Hacking Mr. CEO (Billionaire Heists #3) by Anna Hackett

Okay, time to have a poke around at Rivera Tech.





Mav


Mav sat at the head of the conference table, his hands steepled in front of him, listening to the joint venture partner drone on.

He hated late-evening meetings. Outside, through the windows, the lights of Manhattan gleamed and twinkled.

Mav felt his CFO glaring at him and flicked a glance at Richard on his left. The man rolled his eyes wildly.

Mav grunted. Yeah, yeah, I’m listening.

He refused to just hand over the business side of Rivera Tech to a CEO. He’d prefer it, because then he could spend all his hours in his lab, but it seemed too many people lost their companies after trusting the wrong people.

Rivera Tech was his. He’d keep his fingers in every inch of it, even if it bored him to tears.

“We’ll be looking to spread manufacturing of the new tablets over several locations—” the man presenting continued, pointing to a large screen on the wall filled with graphs and charts.

Mav had already been over the production plan and budget. Consumers were clamoring for the new Riv 5+ phone.

He just wanted his team to get on with it.

His phone—a prototype 6+—vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at it.

His chest locked.

He had an urgent message from Rollo.

NEED YOU! NOW!

Mav rose. The presenter stumbled to a halt, and Richard gave him a narrow stare.

“I’m sorry. Something important has come up. Richard will stay here as my proxy.”

Maverick didn’t wait for questions. He strode out of the conference room, buttoning up his suit jacket as he went.

He marched down the hall and burst into an office.

It was dark. Only the blue glow from the screens illuminated the man sitting in front of them. Rollo was munching on chips, and radiated nervous tension.

“Rollo?”

The man turned his head and blinked.

Rollo’s brown hair had left windswept far behind, and could only be classed as wild and crazy. He had a round face with a high forehead, and large, brown eyes.

“Hey, Mav-man.”

“What have you got?” Mav pressed a hand to the back of Rollo’s chair and leaned in.

“We have an intruder.”

“What?”

“We’ve got a trojan cruising the system. It’s clever. It doesn’t stop, and it isn’t leaving much of a trail.”

Mav’s gut tightened. “Has anyone hacked in?”

“Nope.”

Fuck. “Did it come in via an email or something an employee accessed?”

“Nope.”

Rollo, a man of few words. “So someone connected to the system internally to upload it, or had an employee do it.”

Rollo munched on another chip with a crunch. “Yep.”

“Fuck.” Mav pressed a hand to his hip. “Can you flush it out?”

“Trying to catch it is the problem.”

There was a soft ping from Rollo’s computer and Mav’s phone.

“Someone’s connecting to the trojan to make their way in!” Rollo straightened. “Fuckers.”

Mav’s gut told him exactly who it was.

Her.

“I’ll take care of this.”

“What?” Rollo straightened.

“Leave this to me.”

Mav strode out, and down the corridor. At the end, he stormed into his office. When he’d outfitted the River Tech offices, the designer had wanted to fill his office with stuff. Useless stuff, like vases and statues. He’d vetoed that, so his office had a dark-wood floor, and sleek, austere lines. He had a large, modern desk, and a great view of the city. Minimalist to the extreme.

Mav dropped behind his computer and the screens flared. He tapped, then swiped the touchscreen.

There.

He saw his visitor zooming through his system.

“Where are you going, Little Ms. Hacker?”

His shoulders tensed. He’d been sure she was just a thrill seeker. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

She looked like she had no plan. He tapped his fingers on the desk and studied how her trojan worked.

It flitted all over the place. Interesting. He definitely wanted to take a closer look at it.

Mav saw her pause. For a second, he thought she was gone.

Then he saw where she was headed, and cursed.

She was going into the confidential, top-secret files. Where designs of future projects were stored.

There were many classified projects in there. Some were government, including one with the DOJ, and another with the military.

He couldn’t let her in. He tapped and activated his own program that he affectionately called the dragon.

It threw up a protective wall around the files.

“You’re not getting through that,” he muttered.

She paused again.

Mav opened a chat window.

I see you.

Busted.





Couldn’t hack your way in, so you snuck in the old-fashioned way.

A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s got to do.





He felt a slow simmer of anger.

What are you after?

I can’t tell you.





You’re not just a gray hat.

There was a pause.

No. Sorry.





Sorry? He frowned and remembered Hannah had been sorry too, after he’d discovered her real reason for fucking him.