Too late, ex wife. From Janitor to Tycoon

Chapter Ten

“What’s more,” Aiden said, his voice low and serious, eyes darkening with an urgency that made Sam’s stomach tighten, “they’re not just stealing our money—they’re taking our information too. Information that we absolutely cannot let get into the public. It would ruin a lot of people if it leaked.”

Sam’s brow furrowed, unease settling deep and gnawing in his chest. His pulse quickened, a bead of tension crawling up his neck. “Hold on… what kind of information are we talking about?” His voice remained controlled, but the underlying sharpness hinted at the storm brewing inside him. Suspicion laced every syllable.

Aiden stayed silent, his gaze dropping, lingering just long enough to make Sam’s unease twist into impatience. The pause stretched uncomfortably.

Sam’s jaw tightened, frustration flaring like a spark to dry kindling. He pushed back from the chair, standing fully, his posture rigid with conviction, the weight of his principles anchoring him.

“I don’t do illegal shit, Aiden,” he said, voice low but firm, edged with controlled anger. “If this is it… then I’m out.” Every word was deliberate, a line drawn in the sand.

Aiden shook his head quickly, a flicker of desperation passing over his features. “It’s not illegal, Sam. But if it gets out, the consequences will be catastrophic—for the company, for our clients… for everyone involved.”

Sam’s eyes sharpened, studying him like a predator sizing up prey. The tension radiating off Aiden spoke louder than any words—this was bigger than a simple system glitch. A heavy weight pressed on Sam’s chest. He inhaled slowly, fighting the tight coil of unease.

“Alright,” he said finally, exhaling with a mixture of resignation and resolve. “Then let me see the system.”

Aiden’s gaze flickered to Susan, who had been quietly observing, her posture still and precise. “You will need to go to the ICT room then,” he said, voice tight with urgency. “Susan will direct you where to go.”

Susan straightened subtly, her eyes locking on Sam with a cold, calculating precision. There was no judgment there, only an assessing clarity that seemed to strip away his defenses.

“Before you head to the ICT room,” she said, her voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge, “you might want to think about how you present yourself.” Her gaze was sharp, almost surgical, weighing him as if seeing past the surface.

Sam’s brow furrowed, glancing down at his clothes, a flicker of irritation mingling with confusion. He didn’t understand where she was going with this.

“Not for me,” Susan added, her tone steady, unwavering. “For them.”

His eyes narrowed, a pulse of unease threading through his chest. “Who… who are them?” His voice trembled slightly despite his effort to stay composed.

“My staff,” she replied evenly, each word deliberate.

She stepped closer, just enough to make the air between them electric. " I don't want them undermining you because you are looking like that. And right now, you don’t have time to prove them wrong.”

Sam held her gaze, a flicker of defiance sparking inside him. A slow, knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Good thing I don’t need them to take me seriously,” he said, voice quiet but sharp. “I’m just here to do my job.”

Susan’s lips curved slightly—not in amusement, but in approval.

Aiden sighed, shaking his head, a trace of reluctant admiration in his eyes. “Susan, let him be. He’s as stubborn as he is smart.”

“I can see that,” she said calmly, her voice unwavering.

She reached for the phone without another word. “Zoya will take you to the ICT room.”

A pause hung in the air before she added, “Zoya, come in.”

Aiden looked back at Sam, tension etched into his expression. “We’ll talk about everything else later.”

Sam gave a short nod, acknowledging that this was far from over, yet timing was crucial.

Moments later, the door opened, and Zoya stepped in, her movement precise, professional, but her eyes carried a subtle undercurrent of caution.

“This way,” she said, her tone polite but firm, a warning lurking beneath the surface.

The ICT room was quieter than it should have been. Sam stepped in, every sense alert. The rows of monitors, the blinking of the servers, the low mechanical hum—it all felt off, too deliberate in its silence.

“Aren’t the ICT guys working today?” he asked, voice tight, scanning the room like a predator sensing weakness.

“They are,” Zoya replied. “They just stepped out for a break.”

A chill ran down Sam’s spine. That didn’t sit right. Someone should always be here. That’s how they’re getting in, he realized slowly, unease coiling tighter around his chest.

He moved to the nearest workstation, sitting with purpose, fingers hovering over the keyboard, instincts kicking in, muscles taut, ready for anything.

Moments later, the door creaked. A man entered, sandwich in hand, expression shifting immediately from casual to hard, the moment his eyes landed on Sam.

“Hey… cleaning guy,” he snapped, voice sharp as a whip. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sam didn’t flinch. His posture remained relaxed, but his eyes sharpened, a knife-edge of focus glinting within them.

“Yes?” the man pressed, chewing, frustration threading his tone.

“Who else is wearing a cleaning jacket? Besides, it’s not even for this company,” Sam countered smoothly, stepping slightly forward, his voice calm but carrying authority. “You are a thief!”

“Of course not,” Sam said evenly, each word deliberate. “I’m just checking the system. Making sure everything’s secure.”

The man let out a harsh scoff, stepping toward him, voice rising. “Are you crazy? Do you want to crash the entire system?”

Before Sam could answer, the man shoved at his hands, aggression flaring. “Get out of there. No, don’t leave—I’m calling security! We found the hacker ruining the work here!”

Sam remained unmoved, eyes locking on the man, unwavering, his calm radiating control. “No need to call anyone. I’m not a hacker. I’m here on official business.”

Suspicion hardened the man’s features, jaw tight, eyes narrowing. “Official business? From who?”

“From Aiden,” Sam replied, voice steady, every syllable slicing through the tension. “He asked me to check the system.”

The man’s eyes flickered, disbelief etched across his face. “Aiden? You’re lying. Nobody sent—”

“I’m not lying,” Sam interrupted smoothly, leaning slightly forward, eyes piercing. “Check with him if you don’t believe me. But shoving people and screaming at strangers isn’t going to help anyone—or protect the system.”

The man’s hand twitched toward the phone. “I… I’m calling security!”

“Go ahead,” Sam said, calm, unflinching, authority dripping from every word. “They’ll confirm everything. But while you wait, step back and let me do my job. One wrong move here, and it’s not just your system that crashes—it’s the whole network.”

The man froze, uncertainty flickering like lightning in his eyes. Sam’s words landed harder than he expected, yet he offered no mercy, no escape.

“I’m not here to steal anything. I’m here to make sure no one else does,” Sam continued, deliberate, firm. “So stop pretending I’m the problem, or you’ll be the one explaining to security why you assaulted someone authorized.”

“I’ll rather take that chance… security, come in now!” the man shouted, voice cracking over the line.

Sam simply stood, calm, patient, every nerve on edge, watching chaos collide with order, a silent storm contained within his control.