Broken Code. Part 1. English Edition

Lucian held her in his sharp, intent gaze.

"Shall we begin?" he suggested calmly, gesturing toward the workstation.

A setup of massive monitors already glowed in the dim room. Black backgrounds. Flickering neon lines of code—alive and constantly moving.

Eva drew a deep breath and took a seat.

Her fingers settled onto the keys with a familiar, satisfying click. In that very instant, the rest of the world—along with her suffocating fears—simply ceased to exist.

Lucian’s system was peculiar. At first glance, it appeared terrifyingly, flawlessly perfect. Yet the deeper Eva ventured into the intricate maze of code, the clearer her intuition whispered: something isn't right here.

"You left this on purpose," she said quietly, without even glancing in his direction. Her eyes remained glued to the lines scrolling across the screen.

Lucian tilted his head slightly, an enigmatic smile flickering across his lips.

"Perhaps."

Eva narrowed her eyes, accepting the challenge.

She confidently bypassed the first layer of defense—it was extraordinarily complex, yet it yielded to rigorous human logic. The second layer made her sweat: it was adaptive, responsive, and capable of learning on the fly. But at the third barrier, she was forced to a halt.

One second.

Another, excruciatingly long...

And suddenly, amid the monolithic digital walls, a barely perceptible, razor-thin breach flashed before her. It was so tiny and neat that any average specialist would have bypassed it without a second thought. A triumphant smile touched Eva's lips.

"Found it."

Her fingers swiftly struck the final command... and the system obediently granted full access.

"Splendid," Lucian murmured smoothly. He leaned back into his leather chair, interlocking his fingers with quiet anticipation.

"You’re doing exceptionally well, and without a doubt, you are a fit for us. Perhaps even better than I expected," his voice was smooth, yet underlying it was the unmistakable habit of a man accustomed to giving orders. "I will require your full commitment. At times, you'll need to stay late. Naturally, overtime will be generously compensated. Are you prepared for such a pace? And remind me: what is your marital status? A husband? Children?"

Eva lowered her gaze, feeling the ground give way beneath her feet. Everything was moving far too fast. She had prepared herself for the routine, detached: "We will review your application and get back to you within a week."

"Yes, I have a daughter, she’s seven," Eva spoke faster than she intended. "Until now, I’ve been working remotely from home, but I’m urgently looking for a nanny—the workload has grown, and I can no longer manage it on my own. Granted, she has a mind of her own and doesn't get along with just anyone, but I plan to..."

She cut herself off abruptly, mentally cursing her momentary lapse of composure. Why on earth was she opening up to a man she barely knew? What did he care about her domestic struggles and a child’s whims?

Yet he showed no sign of boredom. On the contrary, he was listening with an intimidating, almost hypnotic focus. A faint, subtle smile lingered at the corners of his lips.

"We need you immediately," he said, a flick of something possessive slipping into his tone. "Ideally, starting tomorrow morning. But I am not a barbarian, of course, and I’m willing to give you a couple of days to sort out your family affairs. Finding someone you can trust with your child is a delicate task. Bringing strangers into your home is dangerous."

Such sharp insight left Eva completely flustered.

"Thank you... Thank you for understanding," she managed softly, her heart hammering traitorously in her throat.

Lucian smiled—openly, predatorily, and intriguingly all at once.

"You are so flustered that you even forgot to ask the most important question—about your salary," he chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Well then, I shall take the initiative. Our company knows how to value rare talent. We will offer you a figure that would allow you to hire not just a nanny, but a personal chauffeur and an entire team of stylists to boot. Although..." his eyes drifted over her with an evaluating, yet subtly warm gaze, "...a woman as charming as you clearly has no need for a stylist."

Eva remained silent, not knowing what to do with her hands.

Is this a clumsy attempt at a compliment, or is he just being sarcastic? the thought flashed through her mind.

"I don't need a chauffeur either—I prefer to be behind the wheel myself," Eva cut in, slightly sharper than she intended. Only a second later, meeting his eyes, did she realize the double meaning behind her words.

"I don't doubt it," Lucian replied, deadpan, though a flicker of amusement danced deep in his eyes, and the corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly.

He returned to his desk and sat down with such composure, as if they had been discussing the weather rather than personal boundaries. Clicking an expensive pen, Lucian opened another folder, instantly shifting the conversation back into strictly professional territory:

"Am I correct in understanding that your primary focus is analytics?"

Eva opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment, the door to the office burst open unceremoniously. A young employee appeared on the threshold, breathing heavily and visibly nervous as he crumpled several printouts in his hands.

"Forgive me, sir, but the servers crashed again! The marketing department—"

"I asked not to be disturbed without permission," Lucian interrupted softly.

He didn't even raise his voice, yet at that deceptively calm, icy tone, the air in the room instantly grew dense and heavy. The young man froze mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open.

Lucian slowly raised his eyes to him.

"If a problem recurs twice, it can only mean one of two things: you either ignored my instructions, or you are simply incapable of following them. Which one is it?"

The employee turned so pale that the freckles stood out sharply against his skin.

"Sir, we just..."

"'Just' is the worst word for an excuse," Lucian snapped, a metallic edge ringing in his voice. "You have exactly ten minutes to fix everything. If you fail, you don't need to bother coming back to this office. You're dismissed."

A ringing, suffocating silence hung in the room.

"Understood, sir," the young man barely whispered, quickly retreating and softly closing the door behind him.

Lucian turned his gaze back to Eva. The heavy aura of an autocrat vanished as swiftly as it had appeared. He leaned back in his chair with ease and offered a smooth smile.

"I apologize for that scene. Now, where were we?"

Eva barely found the strength to nod. It wasn't his harshness that unnerved her—that was common enough in large corporations. What terrified her was the frightening ease with which he switched between personas. It was as if two entirely different individuals coexisted inside this man, separated by an impenetrable wall.

And somehow, that was precisely what alarmed her most.