Chapter 262: Breakthrough Point

(Sophia POV)

"I'm not suspicious, I'm basically certain."

I went through all the calls I received today in chronological order. Owen was silent for a few seconds after hearing everything on the other end.

"I'll have someone check the company system's access records."

"Thanks for that."

After hanging up, I put down my phone and pinched the bridge of my nose. Footsteps came from the living room. Noah walked out of the study with a document in his hand and glanced at me.

"Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"Come on, let's go together."

The food in the kitchen was prepared by someone Mom sent over this morning. The two of us sat across from each other, with three dishes and a soup on the table.

I had just picked up my fork when my phone rang again. Unknown number. I stared at the screen for two seconds and didn't answer. Put it down, and before I finished my third bite, it rang again. This time it was a different number.

Noah put down his fork, took my phone from in front of me, and answered it directly.

"Hello."

The other person paused, probably not expecting a male voice to answer.

"May I speak to Ms. Parker? I'm—"

"She's not available to take calls right now." His tone was flat. "How did you get this number?"

The other person hemmed and hawed for a while, saying they got it from a "friend," but couldn't say exactly who the "friend" was. He wrote down that number on paper and hung up.

"How many today?" he asked.

"No less than ten."

He pushed the paper aside and picked up his fork again. "Eat first."

We finished our meal. The table was quiet for about ten minutes, then the phone rang again.

He picked up the phone, went through all of today's missed calls, took a screenshot, and sent it to Robinson. After sending the message, he put the phone face down on the table and turned to me.

"Your number has been leaked."

"I know."

"We can trace the source."

"I suspect it's from the Mitchell Group," I said. "My resume was filed there, it's in the HR system."

He nodded and didn't say more. He picked up his phone again and called Robinson.

"Check these calling numbers one by one. Company names, people in charge, any connection to Jonathan. Also, check the Mitchell Group's system access records for the past month, focus on the employee information section, see who went in and looked through it."

Robinson acknowledged on the other end.

"One more thing." He paused. "Fiona's number needs to be changed. Prepare two new cards, one for private use, one for public."

After hanging up, he handed the phone back to me.

"Change the number tonight. Take out the old card and leave it with me."

I didn't hesitate. I opened the phone's SIM card slot, took out the SIM card, and placed it in his hand.

"What about social media accounts?" I asked.

"Which ones have you used?"

"Facebook is linked to this number, and there's a work email for external contacts."

"Change the email password. Suspend the Facebook account temporarily, or change the linked information. Get it done tonight."

I took out my backup phone and started working through it step by step.

He sat beside me, didn't rush me, occasionally glancing at the screen.

After about twenty minutes, everything was done. I put down the backup phone and leaned back in my chair.

"Noah, do you think Jonathan did this?"

He folded up the paper with those calling numbers written on it and put it in his pocket.

"Not sure yet. But he has motive. After your divorce, he's been tracking your movements. I cut him off at Emberstone Group, so he needs a new way in. By spreading your information out there and making you deal with outside contacts, he gets a chance to infiltrate."

I didn't say anything. He glanced at me.

"Scared?"

"No." I said. "Just annoyed. Every time things finally quiet down for a few days, this stuff starts again."

The corner of his mouth moved slightly.

"Being annoyed is good, means you haven't been broken down yet."

The next morning, Robinson compiled what he found and sent it to his email.

On the call list, more than a dozen numbers, with companies from seven different industries behind them.

But they had one thing in common—three of those companies had cooperation records or personnel exchanges with Jonathan's Emberstone Group in the past six months.

Additionally, they found problems in the Mitchell Group's system access logs. Two weeks ago, an account logged into the HR system after work hours and pulled over two hundred employee files, including contact information, addresses, and emergency contacts. The account belonged to: Evelyn.

When I saw that name, my expression didn't change much. She was already in prison, but the data in her hands had been leaked. Before she went to prison, she had already sold the information to someone else.

"She downloaded the data before being arrested." Robinson placed a tablet in front of me. "The download time was three days before the police took her away."

Noah leaned against the sofa armrest. After hearing Robinson finish, he didn't speak immediately. He thought for a few seconds.

"That data package, how many people's hands has it passed through?"

"Still checking. What we can confirm now is that someone paid for this data, then distributed it in batches to different companies. The payment came from a shell account."

"Who does the account ultimately point to?"

Robinson paused. "Still tracing, but the direction points to one of Jonathan's middlemen."

He stood up. "Then find someone from the people who called who's easy to talk to."

Robinson understood what he meant.

That afternoon, Robinson picked one. The smallest company on the list, owner named Wade Pearson, doing interior soft furnishings, company of just a dozen people. Taking on my project would be a stretch for him. This type of person is the most desperate and easiest to break through.

He had someone under him call Wade as my assistant, saying Ms. Parker was free this afternoon and could meet to talk. Wade's voice immediately went up an octave. They agreed on 3 PM, location was a quiet business club in the west part of the city.

Wade arrived five minutes before three, suit pressed crisp, carrying a leather document bag, thick stack inside—contracts, quotes, and even a bank card stuffed in. He waited in the private room for ten minutes. The person who came in wasn't me.

It was two very tall men in black suits who closed the door and stood by it.

Wade froze. "You are..."

"Sit." One of them walked over and pushed a chair in front of him.

His legs went a bit weak. "I'm here to discuss cooperation with Ms. Parker, who are you?"

"Ms. Parker doesn't have time to see you." The man sat down across from him and pushed aside the document bag he brought. "But we have a few questions for you."

Wade looked up at the door of the private room. The person at the door was still standing there, hadn't moved. He wanted to stand up.

"How did you get her phone number?"

He stopped. "I... a friend introduced me."

"What's your friend's name?"