Chapter 2: Glass Walls, Whispered Rumors (Nate POV)

Next morning, I dragged myself into ZenithTech feeling like I hadn’t slept a wink. Eyes were stinging from that late-night grind, and my head was still churning over that damn email. I’d scrubbed it from Liam’s inbox, but the freakout stuck with me, chewing at my guts. The office looked different in the daylight, sun blasting through the glass walls, bouncing off desks and screens. Should’ve felt alive, but something was off. People weren’t at their stations like usual. They were clumped up in little knots, heads bent close, voices hushed. Caught scraps as I shuffled by, “breach,” “leak,” and my stomach sank like a stone.

Dumped my bag at my desk, trying to play it cool. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s someone else’s mess. But my hands were jittery as I flipped open my laptop, like I was braced for a punch. Last night was too damn close, what if I’d screwed it up? What if Liam had seen that email before I yanked it back? No, I’d triple-checked. It was gone. Had to be fine. Right?

“Hey, Nate,” Talia’s voice cut in, sharp but with an edge of friendly. Turned to see her leaning on my desk, arms crossed. She’s IT, quick with a laugh or a fix when shit breaks. Dark hair pulled back tight, eyes sharp like she’s always peeling back layers.

“Morning,” I said, plastering on a grin. “You’re up early.”

“Had to be,” she said, dropping her voice low. “Something’s brewing. You catch the buzz?”

Glanced around. Whispers hadn’t let up. A couple of marketing dudes were glued to their phones, faces pinched. “Yeah,” I said. “What’s the deal?”

“Dunno yet,” Talia said, “but word’s there’s a data breach. Something juicy got loose. Upstairs is losing it.”

Throat went dry as hell. “Breach?” I asked, keeping it steady. “Like what?”

She shrugged, but her eyes tightened. “No one’s spilling details. Just rumors. Could be code, could be emails. You know the drill, someone fucks up, we all bleed.”

Emails. That word slammed me like a fist. Flashed back to last night, my dumbass draft, sent by mistake. I’d erased it, but what if that wasn’t enough? What if someone saw? “Yeah,” I said, looking away quick so she wouldn’t catch the panic clawing up. “That’s… rough.”

Talia tilted her head, eyeballing me. “You good?”

“Fine,” I lied. “Just wiped. Pulled an all-nighter with Liam.”

“Heard that,” she said. “Harper was poking around too, huh?”

Nodded, gut twisting tighter. “Yeah, dropped in. Said she was checking the server.”

Talia snorted. “Sure she was. She’s always got some game going. Watch your back with her, Nate. Her and her old man, they run this joint like it’s their damn castle.”

“Graham?” I asked. Harper’s dad, the CFO, bigwig who only shows up to scowl.

“Yup,” Talia said. “Guy’s got pull, too much. And Harper’s been extra weird lately, hovering, digging where she don’t need to. I don’t buy her act.”

Neither did I, not after that creepy smile she threw Liam last night. “Thanks for the tip,” I said.

“Anytime,” Talia said, peeling off my desk. “Keep your eyes peeled, yeah?”

She split, leaving me stewing. The office was humming now, but it felt far off, like I was underwater. Data breach. Emails. Harper. No way it’s about me, right? Stared at my screen, willing my hands to quit shaking.

Through the glass, I clocked someone outside. A woman across the street, camera in hand. Snapping pics of the building, quick and sharp. Sun hit her lens, and I squinted, short hair, leather jacket, not local. Reporter? Skin crawled. If shit’s leaking, she’d sniff it out. Didn’t like that one bit.

“Nate,” Liam’s voice sliced through the haze. He was heading my way, coffee in hand, looking chill as ever. But his eyes were tired, and something seemed off, like he was half there.

“Hey,” I said, jumping up too fast. Chair screeched loud against the floor. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t look at me straight off. “You?”

“Fine,” I said, voice tight. Had to get last night off my chest. “Hey, about that email—”

“Forget it,” he cut in, waving it off. “We were fried. Shit happens.”

Heart froze. “What?” I spit out, too quick.

He frowned, finally meeting my eyes. “That project file you sent late, wrong version. Fixed it this morning. No sweat.”

Relief crashed in, but it faded fast. He didn’t mean THAT email. He hadn’t seen it. “Oh,” I said, nodding. “Yeah, my bad.”

“No biggie,” he said, but his smile didn’t hit his eyes. He glanced around, like he was scoping for listeners. “Busy day. Let’s just survive it.”

“Sure,” I said, but I couldn’t shake it, he was off. His eyes kept flicking, scanning the room. Was he stressing the breach too? Or was it me?

He headed to his desk, and I dropped back into my chair, head spinning. The office was louder now, phones ringing, people hustling. Whispers kept going, every one feeling like a jab at me. Tried to work, but my brain wouldn’t chill. What if someone had that email? What if Harper saw? She was there last night, right after I sent it. Nah, I was losing it. It’s gone. I’d covered my ass.

Reached for my coffee, and that’s when I saw it, a little slip of paper tucked under my keyboard. Pulled it out, fingers cold. Folded once, crisp and neat. Opened it, and my breath snagged. Four words in black ink: “Watch your secrets.”

Stared at it, pulse hammering. Writing was tight, didn’t know it. Who left this? The email? The breach? Whipped my head around, no one was eyeballing me, least not obvious. Glass walls felt like they were squeezing in, putting me on display. Crumpled the note, jammed it in my pocket.

Someone knew something. And I didn’t have a damn clue who.