Chapter 3: The Library IP

David Chen’s initial report hit my inbox less than an hour later. It confirmed Apex Dynamics’ findings: a failed reactivation attempt on the specific license, using my credentials. The IP address, however, was the real punch to the gut.

I sat staring at the screen, the string of numbers blurring slightly. It was a public IP, registered to the Fulton County Public Library, located right in downtown Atlanta. My father’s library.

He always claimed a love for the quiet reading rooms, a place where he could escape the demands of “his business.” He would spend entire afternoons there, despite his supposed debilitating illness.

“David,” I called, my voice raspy. “Is it possible to cross-reference this IP address with any public library logs? User IDs, specific terminals?”

“It’s a long shot, Elias,” David cautioned. “Public libraries usually don’t share user data without a warrant or a direct request from law enforcement. But we can try to see if there’s an administrative contact.”

“Try harder,” I insisted. “This is urgent. I have reason to believe the person behind this attempt is someone close to me, and they would be using their own library card.”

David sensed the gravity in my tone. “Understood. I’ll reach out to my contacts in the city’s IT department. They might have a backdoor to a library manager or someone who can provide limited, anonymized log data for internal security purposes.”

I ended the call, my mind already picturing Arthur hunched over a public computer, attempting to log into my corporate accounts. The image was sickeningly clear. He was meticulous, patient. He would have watched me, learned my habits, maybe even tried old passwords he knew I used to use before I became more security-conscious.

The wait for David’s next update was agonizing. I tried to focus on other work, but my eyes kept drifting to the empty space where the “Albright Solutions” project folder used to be. The irony stung. I had poured so much into that dream, a bridge to reconnect with my father, only for him to attempt to burn it down.

Hours later, David called back. His voice was subdued.

“Elias, I managed to get in touch with the library’s head of IT. After explaining the corporate security breach, they agreed to review their public terminal logs for that specific IP address and timestamp, under strict confidentiality.”

“And?” I asked, my breath catching.

“They found a user ID active on the workstation at that exact time. The user ID matches an account registered to Arthur Albright.”

The air left my lungs in a rush. There it was. Concrete. Undeniable. Arthur. My father. Sitting in a public library, trying to hack into my company.

“Arthur Albright,” I repeated, the name feeling foreign on my tongue. “Did they provide any more details? Like, what he was doing on the computer?”

“No, just the user ID and activity timestamp,” David confirmed. “They couldn’t provide specific browser history or anything like that, citing privacy. But the fact that his ID was logged in at that terminal, at that exact moment… it’s beyond coincidence, Elias.”

“Beyond coincidence, indeed,” I muttered. My earlier suspicions had been just that—suspicions. The social media post of him golfing, the revelations about his debts. But this was different. This was forensic, irrefutable proof of his direct malicious intent.

“What do you want us to do next, Elias?” David asked. “Do you want us to escalate this with Apex Dynamics? Or involve law enforcement?”

I closed my eyes, picturing Arthur’s face. The charming smile, the hand always reaching for more. I always thought it was ambition, a drive to succeed. But now, it was clear it was something much darker.

“No, not yet,” I decided. “Keep this strictly confidential within your team, David. And don’t share it with Apex Dynamics for now. I need a moment to process this, and to figure out the full extent of what he intended.”

“Understood,” David said, though I could hear the unspoken questions in his voice. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“Just… keep an eye on our systems. Especially anything related to that Apex license. Set up extra alerts, double-factor authentication on everything. If he tried once, he might try again.”

“Already done, Elias. Our systems are locked down tighter than a drum. He won’t be getting in again,” David assured me, his tone firm.

I thanked him and hung up, the weight of the revelation pressing down on me. It wasn’t just corporate fraud. It was a personal attack. Arthur wasn’t just trying to get money; he was trying to steal from me, from Sentinel Solutions, from the company I had built from the ground up, brick by painful brick.

The pieces were falling into place, each one more horrifying than the last. The fabricated illness, the undisclosed debts, the orchestrated family pressure, and now, the outright digital theft attempt. What was his ultimate goal? To sell the license for a quick buck? To whom? And why target that specific license?

I stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the Atlanta skyline. The city, usually a symbol of opportunity and progress, felt cold and indifferent. My father, the man who was supposed to be my partner, was now my adversary, hiding in plain sight, using public resources to execute his schemes.

The “unraveling the family legacy” warning from Vivian and Robert echoed in my mind. They had unknowingly been his pawns, trying to protect him from his debts, but the truth was far more insidious. Arthur didn’t care about legacy; he cared about himself. And he was willing to sacrifice everything, including our relationship, for whatever desperate end he was pursuing.

I knew then that I couldn’t just let this go. It wasn’t about the $8,000 anymore. It was about principle. It was about protecting my company, my employees, and ultimately, my son. The battle lines had been drawn, not by me, but by Arthur, and I knew I had to fight back.