You Seriously Blocked My Number?

"Mr. Carmichael, we've just received an urgent, top-priority update directly from the base. They've managed to successfully trace Mr. Cipher's most recent location."

Conrad stood stiffly at attention in the center of the imposing Presidential Suite of the Crown Hotel. The atmosphere in the expansive, dimly lit room was thick with a suffocating tension.

Gideon Carmichael had just stepped out of the private meeting room, lazily loosening his expensive silk tie. At the mere mention of the elusive hacker’s name, his stoic, flawlessly sculpted expression instantly darkened like a violent, gathering storm. "You've finally pinpointed him?"

Conrad swallowed hard, cautiously observing the billionaire boss's freezing reaction. "Not exactly, sir. Mr. Cipher logged off a fraction of a second too quickly for our elite tech team to lock onto an exact set of coordinates. However, we are absolutely certain of one crucial detail. The signal was traced directly to within Oakhaven's city limits."

So the mocking little punk was hiding right here.

Gideon's sharp, predatory eyes narrowed into lethal slits. The sheer audacity of this faceless hacker. To operate right under his nose, hiding within his own heavily monitored territory—it was a blatant, unforgivable insult. It seemed settling their little score was now only a matter of time.

"Put the word out immediately," Gideon ordered, his deep voice carrying an icy, lethal authority that made Conrad’s spine stiffen. "I want close, uninterrupted surveillance across all local networks. Monitor every digital footprint. If he shows his face or touches a keyboard again, track him down. Whatever it takes."

"Understood, Mr. Carmichael."

Gideon turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out over the glittering skyline of Oakhaven. The mere thought of Mr. Cipher operating freely on his turf made his blood run cold. He was going to personally ensure this arrogant hacker learned exactly what true regret felt like.

Across the bustling city, bathed in the warm, golden afternoon sunlight, the ambiance at the highly exclusive Lumina Restaurant was entirely different. Known as Oakhaven's premier destination for high-end foreign cuisine, getting a table usually required weeks of advance booking and a willingness to drop a five-figure sum on a single meal.

Nora sat elegantly at a private table positioned perfectly by the massive panoramic windows. She was thoroughly enjoying a lavish, meticulously prepared meal with her son, Leo. Every bite of the delicate, butter-poached seafood tasted like pure, unadulterated freedom—freedom from a suffocating marriage and a hypocritical husband.

"Mommy, this food is absolutely amazing!" Leo exclaimed between delighted bites, swinging his little legs happily under the table. "Can we get some to take home later?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Nora smiled warmly, wiping a speck of sauce from his chin. "If you love it that much, I'll order extra portions just for you."

Seated respectfully across from her was a sharply dressed professional real estate agent, eagerly leaning forward with a glossy portfolio. The man, impeccably styled in a tailored gray suit, represented the city's most elite property firm.

"Ms. Vance, just to formally confirm your inquiry," the agent began, his tone polished and eager. "You are seriously interested in proceeding with a unit at Crestwood Prime Residence?"

Nora took a slow sip of her sparkling water. "Yes. That is correct."

The agent instinctively straightened his posture, clearing his throat. "Ms. Vance, I feel obligated to emphasize that Crestwood Prime Residence is widely regarded as the city's most secure and astronomically expensive property. Each luxury unit currently lists for well over a billion dollars. Typically, for a property of this magnitude, the massive down payment structures require complex financing. If you'd like, I can start explaining the loan—"

Nora calmly set her fork down on the pristine white tablecloth. She met his gaze decisively, cutting him off with smooth authority. "Don't concern yourself with the financial aspects. Just process the paperwork as quickly as possible. When the time comes, I'll be paying in full."

The agent froze. He stared at her, his jaw slightly slack, momentarily rendered completely speechless. He had clearly assumed a single mother would need extensive mortgage options for a billion-dollar home.

"My representatives will coordinate the minor details directly with your agency," Nora added, her voice dropping to a cool, professional register. "Just get the contract ready."

Stunned but visibly thrilled by the monumental, career-making deal that had just fallen into his lap, the agent quickly recovered. "My deepest apologies for the presumption, Ms. Vance! I will have the paperwork finalized immediately." He stood up, bowed respectfully to Nora and Leo, and took his leave, practically floating toward the exit.

Nora's peaceful, triumphant mood lasted exactly until the heavy mahogany doors of the restaurant swung open. Declan strode in, flanked by a delicate-looking Vanessa and young Kaelen. The maître d' hurried forward, bowing subserviently to guide them.

As Declan stepped into the main dining area, his gaze swept across the room and instantly locked onto Nora's table. His face hardened into a mask of pure irritation. Without a word of explanation, he dropped Kaelen’s hand, left Vanessa standing near the entrance, and marched purposefully toward Nora's table. His broad posture radiated aggressive authority.

"Nora, you actually blocked my number?" Declan demanded loudly the second he reached her. His booming voice echoed slightly, drawing curious, whispering glances from nearby affluent diners.

Nora completely ignored his looming presence. She picked up a silver serving fork, affectionately and meticulously transferring a tender piece of sea bass onto Leo's plate. "Here you go, sweetie. Careful, it’s hot."

"Thanks, Mommy!" Leo chirped with a bright, innocent smile, dismissing his furious father just as thoroughly as his mother had.

Witnessing his own flesh and blood blatantly ignore him fueled Declan's simmering anger into a sudden, explosive rage. This was exactly what he hated—Nora was poisoning Leo against him, turning the boy into a disrespectful brat.

Declan planted his large hands firmly on the edge of their table, leaning in threateningly, causing the fine bone china to rattle. "You need to stop this pathetic nonsense," he hissed. "There is absolutely nothing going on between Vanessa and me. She is unwell and simply needs someone to care for her. And because of that, you're actually proceeding with a divorce? Blocking my number? Moving out of the manor?" He sneered, his eyes filled with dark accusation. "You think you can just throw a tantrum and embarrass my family? You are severely overstepping your bounds."

Raising a cool, perfectly sculpted eyebrow, Nora finally shifted her gaze away from her son. She fixed Declan with an icy, penetrating stare that held absolutely no affection. "Mr. Thornton, I believe our conversation is completely over. Just sign the divorce papers."

"Nora!" Declan’s voice dropped to a vicious warning growl.

"We are in the middle of our meal," she stated flatly. "Leave."

Declan's furious eyes dropped from her indifferent face to the table. He took in the exorbitantly priced, signature dishes covering the space—truffle-infused steaks, rare imported seafood, bottles of artisan water. It was a meal far beyond what he believed her meager personal allowance could ever cover.

Then, his mind clicked. He suddenly recalled the well-dressed, middle-aged man who had just bowed and left Nora's table moments ago.

The realization violently ignited his temper. His mind jumped to the absolute worst possible conclusion. That older man hadn’t been a colleague. He had been a sponsor. A sugar daddy who had just paid for this lavish meal in exchange for her company.

His gaze turned frigid with utter, venomous contempt. "Nora, was that man who just left your new... acquaintance?"

Nora frowned slightly, not following his deranged train of thought.

"Is that why you're so desperate for a divorce?" Declan demanded, his voice dripping with venomous disgust. "Already lining up a wealthy replacement? A man old enough to be your father just to fund your little rebellion?"

He leaned closer, his lip curling in sheer revulsion. "If you want to completely debase yourself and sell out to the highest bidder, that's your business. But do not drag my son into your disgraceful behavior."