The Midnight Revelation

The heavy silence of midnight blanketed the mansion, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft tapping of Ayan's fingers against his keyboard. His sharp eyes scanned line after line of code, searching for answers buried within the data leak that had sent shockwaves through their world.

For hours, Ayan had been trying to trace the origin of the upload. His mind, sharp and relentless, refused to let it go. "It doesn't make sense," he muttered under his breath, frustration bubbling in his chest. How had the file been uploaded under such secure conditions? Who could breach their systems without leaving a trace?

Suddenly, a ping echoed from his screen. Ayan froze, his gaze narrowing as he read the message blinking back at him: **"Source located."**

The realization hit him like a freight train. The upload had come from *his father's computer*.

"No… that's not possible," he whispered, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. His father, Salim, was meticulous—a fortress of discipline who carried his laptop everywhere. For the upload to come from his device was unthinkable. Yet, the data didn't lie.

He turned his head slightly and glanced across the room. Salim was sitting on the couch, dressed in his usual crisp white shirt and dark trousers, a cup of tea on the side table. His sharp, calculating eyes were glued to the tablet in his hands as he reviewed documents, unaware of Ayan's growing turmoil.

Ayan couldn't hide it. His expression shifted—brows furrowed, lips pressed tightly together—and that's when Salim noticed.

"What is it?" Salim's deep voice broke through the silence. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Ayan hesitated, but he knew there was no point in hiding it. "It's… it's the upload," he said slowly. "I found the source."

Salim set the tablet down, his interest piqued. "Go on."

"It came from *your* computer."

There was a pause. Salim's brows shot up in disbelief. "My computer?" he repeated, his tone carrying a dangerous edge. "Are you serious, Ayan? I carry that laptop everywhere. It doesn't leave my sight."

"That's what I thought, too," Ayan admitted. "But the logs don't lie. It was uploaded from your device."

Salim scoffed, leaning back. "Impossible." His gaze shifted instinctively to the sleek laptop resting on the table, its dark surface gleaming under the dim light. The moment his eyes landed on it, the disbelief in his expression wavered.

A chill ran down his spine. Ayan followed his father's gaze, his chest tightening.

"That's not hacked," Ayan murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "They didn't need to hack it, Dad. They were *here*. Someone physically used your laptop to upload the files."

The realization hit them both like a storm. Salim's face hardened, his fists clenching as he pushed himself up from the couch. "What the hell are you saying?" he growled. "Someone came into this house, under our noses, used my laptop, and just walked out?"

Ayan nodded grimly. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

Without another word, Salim stormed toward the office door, his movements fast and purposeful. His voice thundered through the halls as he shouted, "Security! Get in here, now!"

The commotion echoed through the mansion. Within moments, two security guards burst through the doors, their faces pale as they met Salim's furious glare.

"What the hell are you doing?" Salim barked. "Someone came into this house, used *my laptop*, and uploaded confidential files. Under your watch! How did this happen?"

The guards exchanged nervous glances before one stammered, "Sir, no one… no one entered the house. We didn't see anyone."

Salim's face twisted with anger. "Didn't see anyone? How do you explain this, then?"

Before the guards could respond, Zara and their grandmother entered the room, both clearly alarmed by the shouting. Zara, in her nightclothes, looked from Salim to Ayan and then to the guards. "What happened, Salim? Why are you shouting in the middle of the night?"

Salim turned, his expression livid. "What happened? Someone breached our house security, used *my laptop* to leak those files, and walked out without a trace. That's what happened!"

A shocked silence followed.

Zara's eyes widened. "What? That's… that's impossible. This house is under constant surveillance."

"That's what we all thought," Ayan muttered, his voice low and steady. He didn't meet anyone's gaze. His eyes were locked on the laptop still resting on the table. It felt like the very air around it had grown heavier.

"Check the CCTV footage," Salim ordered, turning back to the guards. "Now."

The guards nodded and rushed out. The room fell into a tense quiet as everyone waited, the implications of the breach settling like lead in their chests.

Minutes later, the guards returned, shaking their heads. "Sir… there's nothing on the footage. No one entered or exited the house during that time."

The words hung in the air like poison. Salim's face darkened. "That's not possible," he whispered, almost to himself. "Someone was *here*."

Ayan said nothing. He knew his father well enough to know that Salim would never allow anyone to touch his laptop, much less for him to investigate it directly. That laptop held power, secrets, and answers—answers Salim would rather keep buried.

Ayan exhaled slowly, looking at his father as he ran a hand through his hair, pacing in frustration. But Ayan's gaze once again shifted back to the laptop. It was sitting there, harmless in appearance, yet holding the very key to the chaos unraveling their world.

Whoever did this… was closer than they thought.

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