The morning sun spilled into the room, painting the walls with a warm glow. Liam woke up first, the sunlight a welcome contrast to the dark night that had passed. He slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Isabelle. He moved silently, his movements practiced and efficient, like a ghost in the stillness of the room.
He went to the bathroom, the porcelain tiles cold under his feet. He showered quickly, the hot water a temporary balm to the tension in his muscles. He dressed, pulling on a crisp white shirt and a tailored suit, the formality of a shield against the storm brewing within him.
He glanced at the bed, where Isabelle lay still, her hair a tangled mess on the pillow, her face serene in sleep. He wanted to stay, to linger in the quiet comfort of her presence, but he knew he couldn’t. He had things to do, and questions to answer.
“Penelope,” he called out, his voice a low rumble.
His voice echoed through the empty house, a stark contrast to the silence of the night. Penelope’s footsteps pattered on the stairs, her face etched with worry.
“Mr. Callahan,” she said, her voice hushed. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Penelope,” Liam said, his gaze lingering on Isabelle, her face a picture of peaceful slumber. “Keep an eye on Miss Isabelle. I’ll be back later.”
He left, the front door closing behind him with a soft click. He descended the steps, his footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor, and walked to his car.
The engine growled to life, a roar of power that was a familiar comfort. He pulled out of the driveway, the gates opening with a silent whoosh. He drove into the city, the morning traffic a steady stream of metal and glass.
He could feel the familiar hum of his city, a symphony of engines and sirens, of honking horns and chattering voices. He was a man of action, accustomed to the rhythm of his world, the constant flow of deals and deadlines. He was a man who thrived on control and craved the power to shape his world according to his vision.
But today, that control felt fragile, threatened by the unknown. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, something that extended beyond the boundaries of his carefully constructed world.
He pulled into the sprawling complex of his company, the glass facade gleaming in the morning light. He walked through the atrium, the air thick with the hum of activity. The world seemed to be spinning around him, yet he felt oddly tethered, bound by an invisible force that drew him back to the mystery that shrouded his life.
He walked through the doors of his office, the polished wood floor reflecting the morning sun. He could hear the faint hum of his assistant, Anna, in the next room, a quiet presence in the bustle of his world.
“Good morning, Mr. Callahan,” she said, her voice a soft melody, as he walked past.
“Good morning, Anna,” he said, his voice clipped. “Is Adrian in?”
“Yes, Mr. Callahan,” she replied, her voice a low murmur. “He’s in his workspace, but he’s been… asleep.”
Liam’s gut tightened. He walked down the hallway, his steps purposeful, his mind a whirlwind of questions. He knew Adrian had been working late, and had been trying to piece together the puzzle of the leak, the theft of his most prized project: Project Phoenix.
He came to Adrian’s workstation, a haven of circuitry and code, the air thick with the smell of burnt coffee and stale air. Adrian, his face pale and drawn, slept slumped over his keyboard, the screen of his computer a bright beacon in the dim light.
Liam gently shook Adrian awake, his voice a low growl. “Adrian, wake up.”
Adrian’s eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding his face. “Mr. Callahan, I… I didn’t…” He stammered, his voice thick with sleep.
“What happened?” Liam demanded, his voice cutting through any pretense of politeness.
“I… I was working on Project Phoenix,” Adrian mumbled, his voice barely audible. “I was trying to figure out how it was leaked. I… I spent the night here.”
Liam’s heart sank. He knew that Adrian was a brilliant programmer and a tireless advocate for Project Phoenix, but he also knew that Adrian was not the one responsible for the leak.
“Adrian, you know that I trust you,” Liam said, his voice softening. “I know you didn’t do this. Tell me, what did you find?”
“I… I found something,” Adrian said, his voice recovering its usual confidence. “I found a video recording… from the security cameras… from your office.”
Liam stared at him, his heart pounding in his chest. A video recording? Of what? What could Adrian possibly have found?
“It’s… It’s from the night project Phoenix went Missing.” Adrian said, his voice hesitant. “You… you went to your office… and… you took something.” Adrian pointed to a screen filled with lines of code. He clicked a button, and a video began to play.
The video showed a blurred image, the lights flickering in the darkness of Liam’s office. It was him, entering his workspace, a dark figure against the pale glow of the computer screen. He saw himself moving, his hands reaching for something, his back turned to the camera. It was a recording of his actions, a stark betrayal of his memories.
His stomach churned with a mixture of terror and disbelief. He could see himself on the screen, his actions a blur, a mystery that he couldn’t explain.
“I… I don’t remember this,” Liam said, his voice barely audible. “I… I don’t understand.”
“You took Project Phoenix,” Adrian said, his voice a monotone. “The entire code, Mr. Callahan. It was uploaded onto a USB stick… and… and… you took it with you.”
Liam’s eyes widened, the truth dawning on him with the force of a tidal wave. He remembered going to his office, yes, but he only remembered to do some research on the project. But he knew he didn’t take anything with him.
“But I… I didn’t do that,” Liam said, his voice a desperate plea. “I… I just… I just did some research.”
“You took it home, Mr. Callahan,” Adrian said, his voice devoid of any emotion. “It’s on the video. I… I don’t understand why you did it.”
Liam’s head spun. If he had taken it home, then… then…
“I need to go home,” Liam said, his voice a strangled whisper. “I need to find out what happened.”
He rushed out of the office, his heart pounding in his chest, a torrent of questions swirling in his head. He didn’t know what he would find, but he knew he needed to find it. He needed to know the truth. He needed to know why he had done that. He needed to know….
He ran to his car, the engine roaring to life as he slammed the door shut. He sped out of the parking lot, the engine a powerful growl against the quiet hum of the city. He didn’t know what he would find, but he knew he had to find it. He had to find out what had happened, what secrets he had buried, what truths he had hidden.
He drove, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He needed answers, needed to understand, needed to unravel the mystery that was slowly consuming him. He needed to find out what had happened. He needed to get home…