Danielle enters carrying her cleaning supplies, and she looks slightly out of breath. Her professional composure is intact, but there’s tension in her movements as she sets up her materials.
“I’m sorry I’m running behind,” she says, arranging her supplies near my desk. “I was helping Carmen secure some things outside before the weather gets worse.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” I close the reports I’ve been reviewing and give her my full attention. “Actually, I wanted to ask if you’re available to work extra hours tonight. I have some projects that could use attention, and I’d be willing to pay overtime rates.”
The offer is a transparent excuse to keep her here longer, to create the opportunity for the conversation we need to have about Leo. She hesitates, and I can see her internal struggle playing out in her expression. “I’m not sure. I might have other commitments tonight.”
I catch the pause in her response. “Of course, if you have other commitments, I understand. You’re free to go if that works better for your schedule.”
Before she can answer, my phone buzzes with an urgent alert that makes me gain my feet in one smooth motion. The security app shows a system-wide failure notification:“PERIMETER ALARM SYSTEM OFFLINE. ALL ZONES AFFECTED.”
I grab my phone immediately, pulling up the security interface while my mind shifts into crisis mode. Every camera feed shows error messages, and every motion sensor reports as disconnected. The timing, with the storm approaching and Luca’s recent activities, might not be coincidental.
“What’s wrong?” Danielle’s voice carries genuine concern as she watches my expression change.
Before I can answer, Andrei appears in the doorway, his face grim. “Complete system failure,” he says without preamble. “IT’s on the line, but they can’t identify the source remotely.”
“Weather-related?”
“Possibly, but the timing feels suspicious given recent activity. We should assume hostile intent until proven otherwise.”
I turn to Danielle, who’s standing frozen beside my desk with her cleaning supplies still in her hands. “I need you to stay in this office until I return. Don’t leave for any reason.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Probably not, but I don’t take chances with security.” I move toward the door, then pause. “This room has reinforced walls and a secure lock. You’ll be safer here than anywhere else in the house. Stay here,” I repeat firmly, making sure she understands this isn’t a suggestion.
Andrei and I head directly to the security center, a reinforced room in the estate’s basement that houses our surveillance equipment and communication systems. Two guards meet us there, along with our head of IT, who’s frantically working at multiple computer terminals.
“System went down simultaneously across all zones,” says Annie, the IT specialist, without looking up from her screens. “There’s no indication of external intrusion, but the failure pattern is too clean to be accidental.”
“How long to restore?” I ask.
“Working on it. Could be minutes or hours, depending on whether this is hardware or software-related.”
Andrei and I exchange glances. In fifteen years of business, we’ve learned coincidences are usually anything but coincidental. “We need to do a perimeter sweep,” I order. “Take two guards and check the fence line, camera positions, and sensor arrays. Look for signs of tampering.”
Andrei arches a brow. “In this weather?”
The wind outside has intensified significantly, and I can hear rain beginning to hit the building. “Especially in this weather. If someone wanted to disable our systems, they’d choose conditions that make detection and response more difficult.”
We head outside into the storm, rain immediately soaking through our clothes despite the covered walkways. The wind is stronger than I expected, bending the palm trees at dangerous angles and sending debris skittering across the grounds. Lightning flashes in the distance, followed by thunder that makes conversation difficult.
The perimeter sweep takes twenty minutes and reveals no obvious signs of tampering, but the weather makes thorough inspection nearly impossible. Visibility is poor, and the rain turns everything slippery and treacherous. We’re heading back toward the main building when Andrei’s radio crackles to life.
“System’s back online,” comes the report from the security center. “It appears to be weather-related interference after all.” Annie sounds relieved.
“Appears to be,” Andrei mutters, his skepticism obvious even over the sound of rain and wind.
“Keep monitoring. If it happens again, we’ll know it’s not the weather.”
As we reach the covered terrace, I spot Carmen and Danielle collecting outdoor furniture cushions and linens. They’re both soaked despite working quickly, and I feel a flash of irritation that Danielle didn’t stay in my office where I’d explicitly told her to remain.
“Thought you told her to stay put,” Andrei says, following my line of sight.
“I did.” I watch Danielle wringing water from a tablecloth, her work uniform clinging to her frame in ways that make concentration difficult. “Apparently, she prioritizes laundry over security protocols.”
“Or she doesn’t understand that when you give security instructions, they’re not suggestions.”
