Hacking Mr. CEO by Anna Hackett
Fort Knox
Remi
Istared at the screen, my gut churning. The cursor blinked at me.
I had a job from the black-hat board.
There was a crash from the next room.
“Hey,” I called out. “Don’t break anything.”
“Sorry, Remi,” Charlie chimed. “It was an accident.”
Sure, it was. I sat at the kitchen table, and Mama was taking a nap. The kids were back from school, and I’d offered to look after them for a bit. She’d looked so tired. I nibbled on my bottom lip. I knew Charlie and Jamal were wrestling.
Naomi was humming behind me as she made a cake. She had air pods in her ears, and was dancing a little as she mixed and stirred.
Jamal streaked through the kitchen, laughing, followed by a determined-looking Charlie. A few seconds later, a giggling Kaylee followed, trying to keep up with the boys.
It felt like a rock lodged in my throat.
If Mama didn’t make it…
I dropped my head into my hands. The job waiting for me itched. I’ve never broken the law before. Okay, one time I’d shoplifted, because Marianne Anderson had dared me. I’d taken a tube of lip-gloss and a packet of chewing gum. When Mama found out, she’d marched me down to the store to return them and apologize. I’d also done my fair share of hacking, which wasn’t strictly legal, but I’d never stolen or compromised anything.
Shit, if Mama knew what I was considering, she’d freak.
The front door opened, and I heard heavy footsteps. I closed the lid on my laptop.
Steve came in. He wore a black T-shirt with Steve’s Auto embroidered on it, and he had a greasy rag hanging from the back pocket of his jeans.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.”
Kaylee rushed in. “Daddy!”
Steve hugged his daughter tight. “How’s my best girl?”
My heart melted. He was such a good dad. His girlfriend had run off when Kaylee was two. A toddler had put a real crimp in Crystal’s partying. I’d never liked her. Steve had been a single dad ever since. He’d told me numerous times that he couldn’t do it without Mama.
More weight settled on my shoulders.
Maybe I didn’t have to take this black-hat job. Maybe I could work my tail off for Killian, and Steve could pitch in, and I could take out a loan or something.
Steve dropped heavily into the chair across from me, and scraped a hand over his face.
Shit, did he know about Mama?
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He met my gaze. “Not yet. But I’ll get there.” He released a long breath. “I’ve had a few clients who haven’t paid recently. They’re having cash flow problems.”
“What?” I leaned forward. “Then they don’t get you to do work, if they don’t have the money to pay for it.”
“Cool it, Remi. They’re guys I know. They’re going through bad times. One’s filing for bankruptcy.” He sighed. “Things will just be tight for a little bit, that’s all.”
God. I stared blindly at the floor. He couldn’t help with medical costs, then. And if Mama wasn’t around to take care of Kaylee, he’d have to pay someone.
“Hey, I’ve got work to do before dinner. You got the kids?”
Steve waved a hand. “Go.”
I scooped up my laptop and raced back to my loft. All the way, I tried to swallow the bad taste in my mouth, but I thought of Mama, Steve and Kaylee, the kids…
And me.
A world without Mama Alma wasn’t one I could picture.
I had to protect my family, the same way Mama had protected me. With grim determination, I sat at the desk in my loft and opened my laptop.
Opening the browser, I went to the black-hat board. It filled the screen.
I clicked on the job.
Good day, Rogue Angel. Your reputation precedes you. I have a job that only someone of your caliber could handle.
“Yeah, yeah, flattery will get you nowhere.”
The payment for the job is one million dollars.
I gasped. Holy cow, a million bucks. I took a few steadying breaths. That was enough to get Mama her treatment. I gripped the arms of my chair. I saw Kaylee had stuck some Angel stickers on them. I scratched my nail on the glittery surface.
I’d do anything for my family.
I clicked the next page.
The job is to hack into Rivera Tech, and copy all files referring to the Calix Project.
Oh. Hell.
Rivera Tech.
One of the biggest tech companies on the planet. Hell, my laptop was Rivera Tech.
I groaned. If anyone would have top-grade security, it would be Maverick Rivera, billionaire CEO owner of Rivera Tech.
I stared at the screen and pulled up a search. I typed in his name.
A picture popped up and my heart did a little bounce. Likey, likey.
I snorted. Yeah, yeah, so does every other woman in New York City.
He was big—tall, broad shoulders. The guy had to work out, because I knew for a fact sitting behind a computer all day didn’t make you look like that. He was handsome in a rugged, rough kind of way. He had dark-bronze skin, dark-brown eyes, and stubble across a hard jaw. I was a sucker for stubble. For some reason, instead of sitting at a computer, I pictured him holding a sword, not a keyboard.
A headache bloomed behind my left eye, and I rubbed my temple. Then I opened the drawer and grabbed some gum. I chewed, hoping it would ease my anxiety.
Dammit, Rivera Tech was renowned for killer security. Hell, Rivera had invented half the stuff used on every computer today.
But no system was unbeatable. I thought of Mama, then tapped on my keyboard.
I’ll do it.
There. Done.
A message popped up almost instantly.
Very well. You have one week.
I closed my eyes. What had I gotten myself into?
I straightened and thought of Mama.
Okay. I needed to map out Rivera’s network and search for vulnerabilities. Find all the strengths and weaknesses of his system. I tapped my foot on the floor. I knew some gray-hat hacker friends, and surely someone would’ve tried to crack Rivera Tech before. They could have valuable intel for me.
I considered contacting my online hacker friend, Wesley. We’d met two years ago online. He was pure geek to the bone and lived in his mother’s basement. She cooked for him and did all his laundry.
But lately, he kept asking me out. Okay, he’d asked me out about four-hundred times. The man couldn’t take a hint and I was running out of ways to tell him I wasn’t interested without hurting him. No, I wouldn’t call Wes.
I’d send a few emails in a little bit, but right now, I could do a little flyby.
I wiggled my fingers, took a second to admire my nails, and then pulled up a window. I tapped in a command and opened a little program I’d created myself.
Okay, time to dance.
I didn’t hammer the Rivera Tech system. I danced along the edges. I sent out a few pings. Active reconnaissance involved interacting with a target. It gave more accurate information, but it came with the increased risk of getting caught by a firewall or network security.
Crap. I studied the data.
Crap. Crap. Crap on a stick.
Rivera’s system was pure beauty.
Fort Knox.
I gnawed on my lip. I wanted to take a closer look. I tapped furiously.
As I looked, my belly tied into knots.
This would be no walk in the park. I was good, but what I was seeing may take me longer than a week to crack.
The guy had alarms everywhere. He had back up security on his backups.
“Man, someone’s a little paranoid.”
It made sense. Rivera was a tech God. He’d have loads of important stuff on the system. And I suspected there were people who’d pay loads to get their hands on his designs. A little corporate espionage.
My chest locked. Probably like my new mystery employer.
I hated not knowing who the job was for. Or what I was handing over exactly.
No turning back now.
I heard a ping and froze. I scanned the screen.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
My fingers blurred as I typed. Fuck. I’d set off an alarm.
It’s okay. I wasn’t deep in the system, just on the outer layers. Besides, I was Rogue Angel. No one would be good enough to catch me.
My pulse slowed, and a sense of calm descended, along with the bite of excitement.
Yes, going somewhere you shouldn’t felt just a little exhilarating.
I’d take a look around a little more, clear my tracks, then disappear for now.
And no doubt leave the Rivera Tech security geeks scratching their heads.
* * *
Mav
He hammered the punching bag—left, right, knee, hook, kick.
Mav’s grunts and the slap of flesh on the bag filled the gym.
With a final spin, he slammed a hard roundhouse kick into the bag, sending it swinging.
Sucking in air, he pressed his hands to his knees. Sweat made his workout gear stick to his skin. He worked out a few times a week with Liam, Zane, and their tough, crusty trainer Simeon. The guy was a Krav Maga expert and a hard task master.
Mav and his friends knew early on that they didn’t want to be trailed by security or bodyguards 24/7, so they’d made a pact to learn how to defend themselves. Mav also worked out here at home, in his decked-out home gym. He liked the challenge of pushing himself, lifting weights, building strength. He also liked running on the treadmill, or punching the shit out of the punching bag. It helped clear his head.
Most of all, he loved computers and inventing new, exciting tech that solved problems. He liked nothing more than losing himself in designing a new program, or fiddling around in his lab.
Unfortunately, bringing all that to market meant meetings, business shit, financials, interviews, and people.
Yeah, he could do without the people bit.
Mav had always been the big, quiet kid growing up. He’d always felt awkward and out of place.
Until his dad had brought home an old, secondhand PC. And then Mav had met his computer studies teacher in high school. Mr. Walker was a total geek, and he’d introduced Mav to coding.
Mav had found the place where everything flowed and made sense.
His phone pinged.
Frowning, he walked to the bench against the far wall. He took a sip of water as he unlocked the new Rivera Tech prototype phone with a retinal scan.
A glowing-red notification filled the screen.
Someone had triggered an alarm on the Rivera Tech system.
Fucking hackers.
Phone in hand, he strode out of the gym and down the hall to his office. Aspen liked calling it the Batcave. It had dark-gray walls, and a long, sleek desk filled with multiple screens. He kept the blinds closed.
He dropped into his chair and swiveled. The screens flared to life.
“Good evening, Maverick,” a voice similar to the computer on Star Trek said.
“Open program Delta six.”
“Opening.”
He pulled a sleek keyboard closer and got to work.
A hacker friend of Monroe’s had gotten into his system recently, while helping her out. Mav now had Rollo on the payroll. They’d souped-up the security system a lot, and they had a lot more planned.
He also had a team of cybersecurity experts, but anyone who got too far, he liked to deal with himself.
He eyed the hacker’s trail.
Hmm, they were just doing a flyby. Skimming the outer edges and taking a peek. No doubt mapping the network to find any vulnerabilities to exploit. Then they’d plan an assault and return later.
Not happening. Mav followed the hacker. He set up a secondary program to trace the asshole.
The hacker stopped and started clearing their tracks.
Yeah, the big, bad wolf is on to you.Mav opened a chat window directly to the hacker.
Get the fuck out, asshole.
Well, you don’t mince words, do you?
Maverick raised his eyebrows. Any other hacker would be scrambling to get away.
I’m not hurting anything. Just taking a look.
Mav shook his head at the arrogance. Like the asshole was just out for a stroll.
Get gone, or you’ll regret it.
He glanced at the tracking program. The hacker was definitely in the USA. He watched the data tick by as it tried to find where. Then he’d sic the FBI onto them.
Ooh, I’m shaking in my boots.
Mav scowled. Shit, maybe he’d gotten used to people doing what he asked instantly. Not many people ever disagreed with him, or said no. He typed.
What do you want?
Nothing right now.
You think I don’t recognize network mapping when I see it?
You can’t see me, but I’m fluttering my lashes, all innocent-like.
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?
