Chapter 28
She typed back: [I can go myself.]
[It's on the way.] His reply came instantly.
Lucinda stared at the words "on the way" and the corner of her mouth twitched.
The nursing home was in the western suburbs of Starlight City. The Douglas Estate was on the east side. What possible route made that "on the way"?
She didn't call him out on it. She didn't reply either. She switched her phone to silent, set it on the nightstand, and prepared to sleep.
The moment she lay down, her phone lit up again.
She ignored it.
It lit up again.
Still ignored.
Then the screen went dark and stayed that way.
Lucinda closed her eyes and pulled the blanket over herself.
Just as drowsiness began to settle in, her phone lit up once more.
This time it wasn't a message. It was a call.
Lucinda glanced at the name on the screen—Clayton.
She answered.
"Boss." The voice on the other end was low and quick. "There's a job. You taking it?"
Clayton Talbot—one of the top hackers in cybersecurity circles. Code name: Clay.
Three years ago, Lucinda had taken him down with one move on the dark web. Ever since, he'd followed her with unwavering loyalty.
To outsiders, he was a legendary ghost in the hacking world. To her, he was always like this—efficient, straightforward, no wasted words.
"What's the job?" Lucinda leaned back against her pillow.
"Ransomware. Hit the core database of a multinational corporation. The virus logic is completely new—existing antivirus software is useless. They've posted a bounty in the community. High payout. No one's daring to take it." He paused. "Only you can do it."
Lucinda sat up and pulled her laptop onto her lap. "Send it over."
"Done." Clayton acknowledged, then added, "They're pushing hard. They say any more delays will cost them incalculably."
"Got it."
The call ended. Lucinda opened her email and downloaded the virus sample.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment as her eyes scanned the string of code.
Complex structure. Layers upon layers of nested encryption logic—like Russian nesting dolls. Peel back one layer, and there was another beneath.
Whoever wrote this virus had serious skill.
Her fingers descended and began striking the keys.
Code scrolled across the screen at breakneck speed. Her gaze was focused and calm, her fingers moving so fast they were almost a blur.
Line after line of commands entered. Layer after layer of encryption dismantled. The opponent's defenses were like a meticulously designed maze, and she was navigating every path with staggering speed.
The night outside deepened. The only sound in the room was the crisp clatter of keys—steady, rhythmic, like a song.
An hour later, a final string of code popped up on the screen.
Lucinda hit enter. The virus's core logic was completely dismantled.
She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. Her fingers were faintly warm from the prolonged typing.
Her phone screen lit up again.
She picked it up and glanced at it—Reginald again.
[Good night.]
Just those two words.
More than an hour had passed since his last message.
Lucinda looked at the message, and the corner of her mouth curved slightly.
She replied with a simple "Good night," set her phone on the nightstand, closed her laptop, pulled the blanket over herself, and lay down.
The next morning, when Lucinda came downstairs, Valencia was already eating breakfast. Wesley sat on the sofa reading the newspaper. Dahlia sat at the dining table in a pale pink dress, her hair meticulously styled, as if she were preparing for something important.
"Cindy, come have breakfast," Valencia called to her warmly. "You're going to see Mr. Hayden Lancaster today, right? Eat plenty. Don't go on an empty stomach."
Lucinda acknowledged her and sat down at the table.
The nutritionist-prepared breakfast was as lavish and refined as always: quinoa porridge, poached eggs, avocado salad, and a glass of freshly squeezed juice.
She ate slowly, her expression neutral.
Dahlia sat across from her, holding a piece of toast, her gaze circling Lucinda's face.
She set down the toast, took a sip of milk, and spoke casually. "Lucinda, when you go see Mr. Hayden Lancaster today, let me come with you."
Lucinda looked up briefly but said nothing.
Dahlia smiled, her tone growing more considerate. "I've been with the Douglas family for so many years. I'm familiar with Mr. Hayden Lancaster too. He used to compliment me all the time for being sensible. He even said he loved hearing me play the violin. I took Ms. Molly Ross's online violin course. I learned a piece and even won an award for it. Mr. Hayden Lancaster loves music so much—I'm sure being sick, he'd want to see someone familiar and hear a familiar tune. If I go talk to him and play for him, it'll be good for his spirits."
She finished speaking and let the corner of her mouth lift slightly, waiting for Lucinda's reaction.
Molly.
Lucinda's hand paused mid-motion, and a faint flicker of surprise crossed her eyes.
Molly was one of the many names she used—the one in the music world.
A few years ago, on a whim, she'd recorded a few online violin lessons and uploaded them. They'd gotten an unexpectedly positive response. She'd let the platform handle operations after that and mostly forgot about it.
Dahlia had taken her course, learned a piece, won an award—and now she was using it to show off in front of her?
Lucinda's lips curved slightly. She lowered her head and continued eating, her voice flat. "If you want to go, go yourself. Why are you telling me?"
Dahlia's smile froze for a moment.
"I..." Dahlia bit her lip, her voice dropping. "I already told Reginald. He didn't agree. But I think Mr. Hayden Lancaster would definitely want to see me. Could you talk to Reginald and ask him to let me—"
"If he didn't agree, coming to me won't help." Lucinda cut her off, tone still detached. "If you want to go, tell him yourself."
Dahlia's face flushed slightly. Her fingers gripped the toast so hard her knuckles went white.
She wanted to argue back but found she had no ground to stand on.
Reginald had indeed told her not to come. She truly didn't dare approach him again—that's why she'd come to Lucinda.
But Lucinda wouldn't engage. With one light sentence, she'd shut her down completely.
She opened her mouth, trying to say something, but Lucinda's indifferent demeanor left her speechless.
What did she mean by "tell him yourself"?
If Dahlia dared tell him, would she be here humbling herself like this?
Dahlia took a deep breath, forcing down the anger rising in her throat, and forced out a smile. "You're right. I'll tell Reginald myself."
She lowered her head. The toast in her hand was crushed out of shape.
Lucinda paid her no further attention. She finished the last bite of her salad, set down her utensils, and picked up a napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth.
Her expression hadn't changed from start to finish—as if nothing had happened.
Valencia sat nearby, listening to the exchange between her two daughters. Her gaze shifted between them. She wanted to say something, but ultimately didn't.
Lucinda stood, picked up her phone from the table. "I'm done. I'll head out now."
"Be safe on the road." Valencia quickly stood. "Let the driver take you."
"No need. Someone's picking me up." Lucinda turned toward the entrance, her pace unhurried.
Dahlia sat at the dining table, watching that cool, distant figure disappear toward the entrance hall. Her smile finally collapsed.
She tossed the mangled piece of toast onto her plate, resentment churning in her eyes.
Acting so high and mighty.
Just wait until she saw Hayden, played the violin, and made him happy. Then she'd see if Lucinda could stay so calm!