Nia’s dorm room was a technological fortress. Monitors were stacked three high, cables snaked across the floor like vines, and the air humd with the sound of cooling fans.
"Okay," Nia said, cracking her knuckles. "I’m in. Varga’s cloud backup was encrypted with AES-256, but his password was ’Thorne123’. Amateur."
She hit a key, and a cascade of files opened on the main screen.
Photos. Bank statents. Emails.
"Holy sh*t," Ethan whispered, leaning in. "Is that... is that the Dean of Admissions?"
"Focus," I said, scanning the files. "We’re looking for the forgery. The bank transfer."
"Found it," Nia said. "Folder labeled ’Project: Hart’. Created three days ago. tadata shows it was edited in Photoshop. The original template was a transfer from a shell company called ’Vanguard Holdings’."
"Thorne’s company," Darius rumbled. "He forged a transfer from his own shell company to make it look like Sofia’s."
"Exactly," I said. "If we release this tadata, it proves Thorne fabricated evidence. It’s fraud. It’s defamation. It’s prison ti."
"But wait," Claire said, pointing at another folder. "What’s ’Project: Sterling’?"
Nia clicked it.
A series of emails opened up. Between Varga and Marcus Thorne.
Subject: The Granddaughter
Body: Target acquired. Isabella Sterling. Freshman orientation schedule attached. Suggest approach via ’accidental’ eting at the equestrian club.
My blood ran cold.
"He’s stalking her," I said. "Thorne is trying to get to Arthur Sterling through his granddaughter."
"To kill the grant," Claire realized. "If he can compromise Isabella, or create a scandal involving her, Sterling pulls the funding. And Elena looks incompetent."
"He’s not just attacking ," I said, my voice hard. "He’s attacking everyone. He’s burning the whole campus down just to hurt Sofia."
I looked at my team. They looked horrified. But they also looked ready.
"Nia," I said. "Copy everything. The forgery. The emails about Isabella. The surveillance photos of the Dean."
"Done."
"Darius," I turned to the big man. "Do you know where Varga is staying?"
"The Marriott downtown. Room 412. I saw the key card in his pocket when he threatened you."
"Good. We’re paying him a visit."
"We?" Ethan squeaked. "Like... now?"
"No," I said. "Not us. . And a friend."
I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I had only used once.
"Sofia," I said when she answered. "I need a lawyer. The scary kind."
An hour later, I was sitting in the lobby of the Marriott.
I wasn’t alone. Sitting across from was a woman in a sharp gray suit. She had a briefcase on her lap and a look that could curdle milk.
"Ms. Aldridge sent ," she said. "My na is Harper. I handle... sensitive litigation."
"He’s in Room 412," I said, handing her a flash drive. "This drive contains proof of forgery, cyberstalking, and conspiracy to commit fraud. It also contains his entire client list, which includes three state senators and a judge."
Harper took the drive. She didn’t smile. She just nodded.
"And what is the desired outco, Mr. Hart?"
"I want him gone," I said. "I want him to leave town tonight. I want him to destroy every file he has on , on Sofia, and on the university. And I want him to deliver a ssage to Marcus Thorne."
"And the ssage?"
"Tell him," I said, leaning forward, "that if he ever cos near this again, I will release the Isabella Sterling emails to her grandfather. And i am know he is aware that Arthur Sterling has friends who make the FBI look like a neighborhood watch."
Harper stood up. "Consider it done."
She walked toward the elevators.
I watched her go.
The System flashed.
[Mission Update: The Counter-Strike]
[Status: Executing]
[Leverage Applied: Maximum]
I didn’t feel triumphant. I felt... tired.
I walked out of the hotel and into the cool night air.
My phone buzzed.
From: Office of the Dean
Subject: Exam Results
Mr. Hart,
Your score: 94%.
The Ethics Committee has reviewed your file. The inquiry is closed.
Welco to the MBA program.
- Elena
I stared at the screen.
I had passed. I was legitimate.
And Varga was about to be erased.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
"Ga over, Marcus," I whispered.
But as I walked back toward campus, I knew it wasn’t over. Thorne would retreat, lick his wounds, and plan sothing worse.
And Isabella Sterling was coming in the fall.
I had saved the grant. I had saved my reputation.
But I had also just painted a target on my back that was bigger than ever.
I needed to talk to Sofia. I needed to tell her everything.
But first, I needed to sleep.
I hailed a cab.
"Campus," I said. "And take the long way."
I leaned my head back against the seat.
I had the Muscle. I had the Intel. I had the Insider.
And now, I had the Credentials.
The "System" was quiet. For the first ti in weeks, there were no flashing lights, no urgent missions.
Just the quiet hum of a city that didn’t know I owned it yet.
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