The glow of multiple monitors cast a pale light across Kat's face as she leaned closer, fingers flying over the keyboard. Coffee cup forgotten, eyes narrowed—someone was digging into the Brotherhood's network again.
Her stomach dropped. This wasn't just some low-level hacker. Whoever it was, they knew enough to be dangerous.
She swiveled in her chair and muttered under her breath, "Not on my watch."
Kat grabbed her laptop and stormed toward Wrath's office. The hallway was quiet, shadows stretching along the walls, the only sound her boots clicking against the floor.
"Wrath," she called when she reached him. "We've got another intruder in the system. Whoever it is, they're not amateur—this is serious."
Wrath leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. "I'll put V and Z on it."
"No," Kat said immediately, tone sharp. "You need me to track the signal. I know the patterns—they'll get past V if I don't trace it in real time."
Wrath exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "...Fine. But I want V in on this. He'll come grab you."
Kat's stomach sank. "...Of course he will."
Minutes later, the telltale sound of the leather clad legs strolling down the hallway reached her ears. V appeared, expression grim, arms crossed, eyes flicking to her like he already knew she was annoyed.
"Move," he muttered, voice low, and without waiting for her complaint, he gestured for her to follow him.
Kat stomped her foot. "Fuck you!"
V raised an eyebrow. "I'd love it if you did."
"No," she said, hands on her hips. "I'd rather not."
He smirked, dark and unreadable. "Reluctance suits you. Makes it interesting."
The tension crackled between them as they moved toward the mission vehicle. Kat shot him a glare sharp enough to draw blood. V, for his part, didn't flinch, only shifted the weight in his stride so she'd keep pace.
Inside the car, Kat settled at a console, already tracing the intruder's digital footprints, while V leaned back beside her, silent, brooding, arms crossed over his chest. She ignored him, fingers flying, mapping the signal, feeling every glance he threw her way even as she refused to meet his eyes.
"This isn't a game," she muttered.
V's eyes softened just slightly—enough to make her aware he was watching—but he said nothing, letting her work, though every inch of him radiated impatience, dominance, and some unspoken frustration.
By the time the first trace pinged, the air between them was taut, every glance and movement loaded with unacknowledged tension.
Kat didn't speak, didn't give him the satisfaction of her awareness—she just worked. And V... well, he wasn't about to let her forget he was there, even if he'd rather not admit it.
Kat's fingers flew across the keyboard, mapping the intrusion in real time. The signal was jumping nodes like it knew she was tracing it—fast, adaptive, almost taunting her.
V leaned over her shoulder, long shadow falling across the console. "You're going too slow."
Kat whipped around, eyes flashing. "I'm not 'too slow.' I'm methodical, which is more than I can say for your style."
He chuckled, low and dark, but didn't move away. "You think you can handle this solo?"
"I am handling it solo," she shot back, though she felt the heat of his gaze slicing into her back like a knife. "I just need you to stay out of my way."
