Theo Montgomery swirled the amber liquid in his crystal tumbler, the overhead light catching the angles of the glass and sending flickers across the sleek conference table. The boardroom was silent, save for the low hum of the projector displaying the crowning achievement of his career: Orion.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Theo began, his confident tone filling the space, “what you’re looking at is the future. Orion will redefine surveillance. Governments will clamor for it. Corporations will bid wars over it. This system doesn’t just monitor—it predicts.”

He leaned forward, his perfectly tailored navy suit creasing just enough to hint at the body honed beneath it. His gray eyes, sharp as the skyline outside, scanned the room of Montgomery Innovations board members. Some nodded, their expressions a mix of excitement and unease. Others, the ones Theo privately labeled “the dead weight,” just stared, their skepticism palpable.

“Imagine knowing where your target will be before they know themselves,” Theo continued. “Terrorists, cybercriminals, hostile acquisitions—you’ll have the edge every time.”

Before anyone could respond, a soft ding interrupted the moment. Theo’s assistant, Rebecca, entered, her face pale, a tablet clutched tightly in her hands. “Apologies, Mr. Montgomery,” she said, her voice wavering slightly, “but this just came in. You should see it immediately.”

Theo arched a brow, irritation flickering across his features. He hated interruptions, but Rebecca was unshakable—until now. Rising from his chair, he strode to her, plucking the tablet from her hands with a flick of his wrist.

“What’s so important that it couldn’t wait?”

Her only response was a nervous glance at the board members. Theo ignored the knot forming in his stomach and glanced at the screen.

It was an email. The subject line read: WE SEE YOU.

The body was worse:

“The world doesn’t need another weapon, Theo. Shut down Orion—or we’ll shut it down for you. Permanently.”

Beneath the text was a GIF, a looping image of the Montgomery Innovations headquarters. Theo recognized the footage—it was the live security feed.

The timestamp in the corner read three minutes ago.

Theo felt his chest tighten. His first instinct was to dismiss it as a prank, but as his gaze fell back on Rebecca’s face, pale and pinched with fear, he knew better. Whoever had sent this wasn’t bluffing.

“Rebecca,” Theo said, his voice low and even, “how did this get past our system?”

“I—I don’t know,” she stammered. “IT says they’ve never seen anything like it. No trace of how it got through. But…”

“But what?”

She hesitated, then swallowed hard. “There’s more. We’ve received three separate death threats in the past hour. They’re escalating.”

The room erupted. Board members began muttering to one another, their voices climbing in panic. Words like “breach,” “liability,” and “recall” filled the air. Theo turned back to the room, holding up a hand to silence them.

“Calm down,” he snapped, his commanding tone cutting through the noise. “This is an empty threat. Someone thinks they can rattle me. They’re wasting their time.”

“But, Mr. Montgomery—” one of the older board members began, his voice quavering, “if they’ve already accessed our live feed—”

“They don’t have Orion,” Theo interrupted sharply. “The system is secure. Let them try. They’ll fail.”

Despite his outward confidence, Theo felt the familiar itch of doubt creeping in. He despised it, but he couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at the back of his mind.

“Rebecca,” Theo said, turning back to his assistant, “get IT on this. I want answers in an hour. And bring in legal—this will need to be spun carefully.”

“Yes, sir.” Rebecca nodded quickly and left the room, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

The tension in the boardroom was suffocating. Theo turned off the projector and ran a hand through his styled blond hair.

“Meeting adjourned,” he said coldly. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow once I have more information. And don’t let this shake your confidence. Orion will roll out on schedule.”

The board members filed out hesitantly, glancing at one another with unease. Theo waited until the door closed behind the last of them before sinking back into his chair.

The email was still up on the tablet in his hands. The looping GIF played again, mocking him.

He exhaled slowly, setting the tablet down and staring at the skyline beyond the glass walls of the boardroom.

They see me? Theo thought. A faint smirk played at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Let’s see who sees who first.

The email's ominous message still echoed in his mind, a warning that would soon mark the beginning of a deadly game—one Theo would learn was far more personal than he could have imagined.