Chapter 30: Hacking For Alexander’s Identity

Chapter 30: Chapter 30: Hacking For Alexander’s Identity

The following morning arrived with a sky washed in pale blue, the early sunlight spilling through the apartment windows in long golden strips.

Iris zipped up the last compartment of her travel bag before lifting it onto the bed. The events of the previous day still lingered at the back of her mind—the wolf-shaped mark, the strange visions, and the unsettling feeling that something inside her had changed.

Even so, she had made up her mind and decided that going home would do her good. Perhaps a week away from Seattle might be exactly what she needed before the final semester began.

She slipped on a light jacket, making sure the collar hid the mark on her neck before stepping into the living room.

Zoey was already waiting by the front door with two steaming cups of coffee.

"I figured you’d need this," she said, handing one over. "You’ve got almost six hours trapped in a cab ahead of you."

Iris accepted it with a grateful smile. "You make it sound like I’m being transported to prison."

Zoey shrugged dramatically. "Depends on how talkative your driver is."

That earned her a laugh.

"I booked the ride last night," Zoey continued. "He has good ratings, so hopefully he won’t spend the whole trip telling you conspiracy theories."

"I’ll survive."

The smile between them slowly faded into something quieter.

Zoey reached over and brushed an invisible crease from Iris’s sleeve. "You’ll call me when you get there?"

"I will."

"And if..." Her eyes briefly flicked toward the collar hiding Iris’s neck. "...anything strange happens."

"I’ll call immediately."

"No matter how ridiculous it sounds."

"I promise."

Zoey studied her friend for another moment before pulling her into a tight hug. "Take care of yourself, Iris."

"You too."

They remained that way for a few seconds before separating.

"Come on, let’s go outside before your driver decides to abandon you, due to thinking you’re unavailable for the journey home anymore." Zoey joked and iris chuckled, both women going outside.

The morning air, crisp with the promise of autumn, carried the distant hum of city life as Iris swung her packed duffel over her shoulder.

A sleek black cab, gleaming under the nascent sunlight, idled at the curb. Zoey, a comfortable warmth in her worn-out university hoodie, stood beside her, a faint frown creasing her brow, quickly replaced by a bright smile.

"Right then, this is it," Iris said, adjusting the strap. A small, almost imperceptible tremor ran through her as she thought of the long journey ahead. She pushed it down. "Six hours of scenic beauty, or mind-numbing highway, depending on my mood."

Iris sighed. "I’m mentally preparing myself for six hours to Spokane."

Zoey stepped closer, her arms enveloping Iris in a firm hug. "Be good, alright? Don’t let your mum fuss too much. And tell them I said hi, of course." She pulled back, her gaze lingering on Iris’s face, a hint of something unsaid in her eyes.

"Seriously though, take care of yourself. Eat proper meals, don’t just live on instant noodles. And... you know."

Iris chuckled, a light sound that barely masked a touch of apprehension. "Don’t worry about the noodles, with my mom there, I’d be fortunate not to gain five extra pounds. I’m going home, not to a remote arctic research station, Zoey. I’ll be fine.

And you, don’t you dare spend the entire week glued to that screen. Get some fresh air, maybe even talk to another human being who isn’t a digital ghost." She nudged Zoey playfully.

"But, if you do happen to stumble across anything useful in your ’research’... you know where and how to find me." A hopeful note, carefully tucked away, permeated her voice.

Zoey’s lips curled into a knowing grin. "Oh, you wound me. And rest assured, my dear detective-in-training, I’ll keep digging." Zoey said. "Whatever that mark is, I’m not giving up until I find something. I’ll be a regular Sherlock Holmes on this ’mystery wolf tattoo’ case.

Maybe by the time you get back next week, I might actually have answers and a full dossier. Or at least, a very confusing array of fragmented theories, instead of a hundred useless internet articles."

"I appreciate it Zoey."

"No biggie." She winked. "Just try not to be too bored without my sparkling wit to entertain you."

Iris rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "As if. Well, headphones are charged, podcast list is curated, and I have enough snacks to feed a small army. I think I’m prepared for whatever the road throws at me."

Zoey nodded approvingly. "Then you’re officially prepared for battle."

Iris laughed. See you next semester, then." She paused, a genuine smile blooming.

"You mean next week," Zoey corrected with a smile. "It feels ridiculous saying ’next semester’ when it’s only a few days away."

"I know Zoey that next semester is bizarrely, just next week, but it feels good to hear it doesn’t it?"

Zoey laughed, a bright, unrestrained sound that echoed in the quiet street. "Indeed, roomie. Go on, your chariot awaits. Don’t want to keep your chauffeur waiting."

A taxi waiting at the curb, and the driver seeing Iris approaching, climbed out to help with her luggage before placing it in the trunk.

With a final wave, Iris slid into the cab. The door thudded shut, a solid, final sound and she waved once more through the open window. Zoey remained standing outside the apartment building, watched the black vehicle glide away, the city slowly swallowing it whole and it disappeared around the corner.

Only then did she let out a slow soft whoosh of air that felt heavy with anticipation.

"I really hope nothing weird happens while you’re gone."

After Iris’s cab disappeared around the corner, Zoey remained standing outside for another few seconds before finally she turned, her shoulders slumping slightly, and re-entered the apartment, the door clicking shut behind her.

The apartment felt unusually quiet without Iris. After dropping onto the sofa for only a second, Zoey groaned and pushed herself upright again.

"Nope." She pointed toward her bedroom. "We’re working."

She walked into her bedroom, closed the door behind her, the familiar clutter of her bedroom was a comfort. Her desk, a veritable cockpit of digital prowess, awaited. Monitors hummed with a low, constant energy, bathed in the cool glow of standby.

And she immediately sat before the setup Iris affectionately called "Mission Control."

Zoey ran a hand over the smooth casing of her custom-built rig, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Alright, girl," she murmured, a pep talk to herself, to her machine. "Time to earn our stripes."

Three monitors lit up one after another. A custom-built desktop hummed softly. Mechanical keyboards, external drives, network analyzers, and enough computer hardware to make any tech enthusiast jealous covered the desk.

Zoey cracked her knuckles. "Okay, Zoey," she muttered to herself. "Let’s see who you really are."

Her fingers danced confidently across the keyboard. "If mysterious wolf tattoos suddenly appear after spending one night with a mysterious billionaire....then maybe the billionaire deserves a closer look."

Her fingers, long and nimble, danced across the keyboard, a flurry of precise movements. The screens flickered to life, displaying lines of code, intricate algorithms, and search parameters. She was looking for a ghost in the machine, a whisper in the digital wind – a man named Alexander.

She didn’t know his surname, because Iris didn’t deem it important enough to find out the complete identity of a man she slept with.

Zoey sighed, at least she only knew one thing....that his name is Alexander. But that wasn’t enough to search billions of people.

Fortunately...she had another idea.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard, and a virtual private network connected. Encrypted windows opened one after another before disappearing. And within minutes, she’d located the surveillance network belonging to Obsidian, the nightclub where Iris had met the mysterious stranger.

"This should still be on their backup server..."

After another few commands, the loading bar crept across the screen.

"There you are."

She clicked and a security footage of the club appeared. She scrubbed through the timeline until she reached the previous night’s recording.

There...Alexander stood on the VIP platform exactly where she and Iris had seen him standing. Even through a security camera, his presence dominated the room.

"No wonder every woman in that club was staring at him," Zoey murmured.

She paused the footage and zoomed in. She enhanced the image and within seconds, she had a remarkably clear shot of his face.

"Perfect."

She exported the frame....Now came the harder part.

Opening another secure window, Zoey uploaded the image into a facial-recognition database normally inaccessible to the public.

The software began scanning, searching...Five percent, twenty-three, forty-eight.....Ninety-one.

A few seconds later, a soft notification chimed...MATCH FOUND.

Zoey leaned forward, eyes wide in shock. "No way..."

The profile slowly filled her monitor. His name was Alexander Grant. Chief Executive Officer of Grant Enterprises, One of the youngest self-made billionaires in America.