Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 232

Chapter 232

Lola

The lab sat buried under the penthouse floors, cold and alive in equal measure–server hums, ozone, and the faint scent of burnt coffee clinging to the air. Screens covered every wall, casting blue light that crawled over metal and glass.

Jake was right where she expected him: hoodie half–zipped, hair a rumor, surrounded by empty mugs and a thousand–yard stare that said sleep was theoretical.

“You look like you’ve been awake for a week,” she said, setting her coffee beside one of his.

“Five days,” he replied without looking up. “Sleep’s for civilians.”

“Or happy people.”

“Can’t relate.”

He finally swiveled toward her. “You wanted Rinaldi. I went fishing.”

She leaned a hip against the desk, pulse kicking once. “I said low–key.”

“This is low–key,” he said. “I didn’t even use the scary servers.”

“Define scary.”

“The ones that talk back.”

She blew out a breath. “Okay. What did you find?”

Jake clicked something, and the central monitor bloomed with pale–blue grids.

At first it looked like static organized by a perfectionist. Then he zoomed in, layer after layer collapsing inward, until a single red pulse glowed at the center.

Not blinking. Breathing.

He pointed. “That’s him.”

“What do you mean that’s him? It’s a dot, Jake.”

“Yeah, but it’s a dot that doesn’t want to be seen. Every time I ping this node, it bounces me three countries over, wipes the trail, and loops my access logs. That’s not architecture; that’s a living countermeasure.”

“So it’s–what? Protected?”

“Protected, mirrored, spiteful. Classic rich–villain energy. And guess what one of the dead proxy addresses was tied to?”

She raised a brow.

“An old Academy server.”

Her fingers tightened around the mug.

For a second she could smell waxed marble and hear her father saying, You’ll meet Luclan Rinaldi. He’ll give you the tour himself.

Her voice came out thinner than she wanted. “I was nine. I remember shoes squeaking. His voice saying my name like it already belonged to him.”

Jake’s tone flattened into something close to concern. “You sure you want to keep digging? Whatever this is, it’s awake.”

It’s just data. It can’t see you.

Right?

The pulse flickered. Once. Twice. Then the entire grid rippled, slow as breath.

Jake’s hands froze on the keys. “Uh… that wasn’t me.”

“What do you mean, that wasn’t you?”

“It moved,” he said. “It’s rerouting–Jesus–it just bounced into our local net.”

HELLO, LOLA.

The monster always feels the flashlight before you see its eyes.

HELLO, LOLA.

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