His webcam light flickered to life, a tiny, judgmental green eye. A new window popped up—a live chat.

Marcus froze. He typed back, his fingers trembling. “Who is this? How do you know my name?”

“You really shouldn’t have clicked that, Marcus.”

He realized then that the "leak" wasn't about Nadia at all. It was a mirror. And he’d just invited the thief inside.

The email sat at the top of Marcus’s inbox, a neon sign in a dark alleyway: