“How did he get this number?” I asked, staring at the secure device. “You said these phones were completely encrypted. You said your IT team built a firewall no one could break.”

Adrian stood by the window, his back to me.

His broad shoulders rose and fell with a slow, even breath.

“They did,” he said.

“Then how is he messaging me?” I demanded.

“Because I let him have the frequency,” Adrian said.

I froze.

The words did not make sense.

“What?” I whispered.

Adrian turned around slowly.

The amber light of the bedside lamp caught the sharp angles of his jaw.

“Marcus Vance didn’t hack my system,” Adrian said. “He was invited in.”

I shook my head, my mind racing.

“You invited him here?” I asked. “To your home?”

“Not him,” Adrian said. “The mole who works for him.”

He walked over to the desk where my laptop sat.

The screen was still open to the ledger sheets I had been analyzing for the past three days.

Columns of red numbers blinked in the dim light of the room.

Adrian tapped the edge of the keyboard.