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

He snorted. Shit, a funny hacker. He stilled. Something about the wording gave off a feminine vibe.

He was certain his hacker was a woman.

So, you work for Rivera Tech security? I didn’t think

Maverick Rivera would hire such chatty, friendly guys like you.





Mav glanced at the tracking program. She was on the East Coast.

You’d be surprised at what Maverick Rivera does.

No, I don’t think so. That big, broody billionaire is either inventing

a new gazillion-dollar gadget, or buying a new yacht.





A laugh burst out of him. It sounded a little rusty.

I don’t own a yacht. I just hire one when the mood strikes.

There was no response. He stared at the blinking cursor.

You’re Maverick Rivera?





Yes. And who are you?

Wouldn’t you like to know?





Suddenly, he really did. He was actually having fun.

Why are you cruising my system, mystery girl?

How do you know I’m a girl?





I can tell.

No, you can’t. I’m a middle-aged, Ukrainian hacker called Sergei.





Mav snorted.

Nope.

He looked at the other screen, and his pulse leaped. She was in New York.

Okay, maybe I’m a thirteen-year-old, Russian hacker called Nikolai.





Mav swallowed another laugh.

Not buying it. So why are you here?

There was a long pause, and for a second, he thought she’d left.

I don’t want to be, believe me.





He frowned.

Well, I have to go.





No.

Shit, was he crazy? He didn’t need her in his fucking system. She was only a few layers in, but he could already tell she was good.

I know you’re trying to track me.





No, I’m not.

Wow, you’re a bad liar, even online.





The tracker zoomed in and his pulse spiked. She was in New York City.

Then the screen flickered and the tracker program froze.

What the hell? He tapped furiously.

Suddenly, the tracker was replaced by an image of two glowing-blue angel wings, made of computer code.

Nice try, Maverick Rivera.





He ground his teeth together. She was good. She was very good.

If you come back, I will hunt you down.

We’ll see.





The chat window closed. She was gone.

Mav sank back in his chair. She’d be back. He knew it.

What the hell did she want? His gut hardened. She was no doubt a thief, and after something.

His cell phone rang. “Rivera.”

“Sir, it’s Alex from Security. We had a system breach. He got a few layers in, and we couldn’t track him.”

“Thanks, Alex. Increase the intrusion detection and enhance the firewalls. Keep me informed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mav stared at the angel-wing image. Who the hell are you?





3





You Shouldn’t Play Around on Ladders





Remi


Adrenaline pumped through me and left me a little jittery.

I hefted my toolbox and the lightweight aluminum ladder, and headed into the front of the Rivera Tech office building in lower Manhattan.

My brown coveralls were baggy, and I had a tool belt slung around my hips, and a brown ball cap pulled on my head. Across the top of it was stitched Atlas Electric.

I headed to the security desk, pasting on a smile.

I’m just a nobody electrician headed to work. Nothing to see here.

“Hi,” I called out. “I’m here from Atlas Electric to do a job.” I lifted a scrap of paper. “Some maintenance on the 49th floor for Rivera Tech.”

The guard frowned, and tapped onto the computer in front of him. “We have you down for tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I finished a job round the corner, so they sent me here. Someone was supposed to call.”

The guy glanced at my toolbox and ladder. “Show me some ID, and let me search your gear.”

I rested the ladder against the desk and hefted the toolbox onto the bench. I pulled out my Atlas Electric ID that I’d made myself. I’d burned my finger on the laminator.

Man, Maverick Rivera was paranoid.

Maverick Rivera. I smiled as the guard searched my toolbox. I had my tablet in there, but at a cursory glance, that was nothing that an electrician shouldn’t have.

I couldn’t believe I’d played hacker footsie with the big man himself. The guy had minions. Hell, his minions probably had minions, and yet, he still monitored his own system. I felt a faint prickle of unease.

I’d analyzed the data from my flyby. I’d tapped my gray-hat contacts. Everyone said hacking more than a few layers into the Rivera Tech couldn’t be done. So here I was, going into the dragon’s lair. I was going to place my little angel directly into the system.

I hated the terms trojan, or virus, or malware. My sweet little angel was pure beauty.

I’d hacked Atlas Electric—it had been ridiculously easy—and I saw they were sending someone tomorrow to fix an electric issue at Rivera Tech.

That person would still turn up, never knowing that I’d visited today.