Chapter 2: License Tampered

The phone buzzed on my desk, a number I didn’t recognize. I stared at it, my mind still replaying Robert’s flustered words about Arthur’s debt.

“Elias Albright,” I answered, my voice tight.

“Mr. Albright, this is Maya Singh from Apex Dynamics. I’m the Technical Support Lead.”

Her name clicked. Apex Dynamics. The software vendor. My stomach churned.

“Yes, Maya. I’m actually expecting a refund for a canceled license. Is that what this call is about?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.

There was a brief pause. “Not exactly, Mr. Albright. This is regarding some unusual activity we’ve flagged on your Sentinel Solutions corporate account.”

“Unusual activity?” I echoed, a cold knot tightening in my chest. My corporate account. The one I’d personally linked to the license for Arthur’s venture.

“Yes. A specific $8,000 software license, which was recently canceled and processed for a refund, showed an attempt to reactivate.”

My grip tightened on the phone. “Reactivate? But I canceled that license myself.”

“Exactly,” Maya said, her voice professional but with an undercurrent of concern. “The attempt was made using an administrator login linked directly to your Sentinel Solutions credentials.”

The world seemed to tilt. My credentials. My company. This wasn’t just Arthur lying about an illness or owing money to a loan shark. This was a direct, digital trespass.

“Are you saying someone tried to use my company’s login to reactivate a canceled license?” I pressed, my voice barely a whisper.

“That’s right, Mr. Albright. Our system flagged it as unauthorized access almost immediately. The reactivation failed, of course. We have very robust security protocols.”

A wave of icy fury washed over me. Arthur. It had to be Arthur. The audacity.

“And what exactly does ‘unauthorized access’ entail in this situation?” I asked, needing every detail.

“The login attempt failed a two-factor authentication step,” Maya explained. “However, the primary password and username, linked to your corporate profile, were correctly entered. This suggests a compromise of those specific credentials.”

A compromise. My mind raced. How could Arthur have gotten my corporate credentials? Had he seen them over my shoulder? Had he guessed them? He knew my habits, my older passwords from years ago.

“So, someone, using my details, tried to bring that specific license back online, and then what?” I asked, trying to understand the end game. “What would be the purpose of reactivating it?”

“Without full access, it’s hard to say definitively,” Maya replied cautiously. “But typically, reactivated licenses can either be re-assigned within an organization or, in some cases, resold. Given that this specific license was tied to a venture you’d withdrawn from, the latter seemed… unusual.”

Resold. The word hung in the air, chilling me to the bone. Not just for Arthur’s venture. Not for his debt. For personal gain.

“Did you take any other steps after this attempt?” I asked.

“Our system automatically blocked the IP address for further attempts and notified our security team,” she said. “We also initiated a full audit of all accounts associated with Sentinel Solutions, as a precaution. That’s why I’m calling you directly. We wanted to confirm if you were aware of any internal attempts to reactivate this specific license.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. Aware? I was the one who cancelled it. Arthur was trying to steal from my company. My own father.

“No, Maya. I was absolutely not aware of this, nor did I authorize it,” I stated, each word measured and cold. “Thank you for alerting me. This is incredibly serious.”

“We understand, Mr. Albright,” she said, her tone softening slightly. “Given the nature of the attempt and the linked corporate credentials, we highly recommend you conduct an internal security review of your Sentinel Solutions accounts and systems.”

“I will. Immediately,” I promised. “Can you provide me with the exact timestamp of the attempt, the specific IP address, and any other relevant log data?”

“I can send you a secure report with all the details,” she offered. “It will be encrypted, of course. For your eyes only.”

“Please do,” I said, already formulating my next steps. “And Maya, can I ask a hypothetical question?”

“Certainly.”

“If someone were to reactivate a license like this, one I’d bought for a partner project, what’s the fastest way to turn it into cash?”

She paused. “The quickest method, assuming the license is transferable and the buyer is legitimate, would be to sell it on the secondary market. Some software licenses hold value there. Or, if it’s a specific enterprise license, a competitor might be interested in acquiring it for a reduced price to gain an edge.”

A competitor. Reduced price. Arthur’s desperation suddenly seemed to have a very specific, ugly shape.

“Thank you, Maya. For everything,” I said, a grim resolve settling over me. “I’ll be in touch if we uncover anything on our end.”

I hung up, the silence of my office suddenly deafening. My phone felt heavy in my hand, a conduit to the ugly truth. Arthur hadn’t just faked an illness to abandon a project. He hadn’t just used Vivian and Robert to pressure me for his secret debts. He had actively, maliciously, tried to infiltrate my company’s systems, using my own credentials to reactivate an asset he no longer had a right to.

The purpose, Maya had said, could be resale. For a fraction of its value, perhaps, to clear some immediate, pressing debt. The thought was sickening. He was willing to compromise my company’s security, risk my reputation, all for a quick, desperate payout.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. The golf course picture flashed in my mind, Arthur’s broad, triumphant smile. The memory of Vivian’s tearful plea, Robert’s uncomfortable silence. They were all pieces of a puzzle, but this new piece was sharper, more dangerous. It confirmed a level of betrayal I hadn’t thought possible from my own father.

I pulled out my work phone and dialed David Chen, my Head of IT. He picked up on the second ring.

“David, it’s Elias. I need your team to initiate an immediate, high-priority forensic audit on all Sentinel Solutions administrator accounts,” I stated, skipping pleasantries.

“Immediately, Elias? What’s going on?” David asked, his voice alert with concern.

“We have reason to believe one of our core software licenses, specifically the Apex Dynamics one for the Albright Solutions venture, was subject to an unauthorized reactivation attempt using compromised corporate credentials.”

David let out a low whistle. “Compromised credentials? That’s serious. Which credentials?”

“Mine,” I said, the word tasting bitter. “Or at least, ones linked to my corporate profile.”

“I’ll get a team on it right away. We’ll start by locking down your profile and then tracing all access attempts related to that Apex license,” David assured me, his tone already shifting into crisis management mode. “Do you have any initial intel on the source of the attempt?”

“Apex Dynamics provided an IP address. I’ll forward you the secure report from them as soon as it lands in my inbox,” I instructed. “I need to know who accessed it, when, and from where. Every single detail.”

“Understood. We’ll prioritize this. Expect an initial report within the hour, even if it’s just raw data.”

I thanked him and hung up, my jaw tight. The pit in my stomach deepened. Arthur wasn’t just desperate; he was dangerous. He was willing to burn bridges, compromise family, and now, even commit corporate fraud. The reason for the money, the depth of the debt Robert had alluded to, felt more urgent than ever. This wasn’t about a joint venture anymore. This was about protecting Sentinel Solutions, and perhaps, myself, from the man who had given me my name.