Chapter 4: The Bait

The response came exactly forty-seven hours and thirty-three minutes later. Alex had been counting.

From: [email protected]
Subject: Phase 1 Review - Concerns Identified
Time: 10:20 AM

Alex,

I've completed my review of the backend deliverables with my technical team. While the work shows promise, we've identified several performance concerns that need to be addressed before we can proceed with payment.

The system needs to be tested under real-world server conditions to verify scalability claims. Please prepare for a live demonstration tomorrow at 2 PM in my office, followed by immediate deployment to our production servers for comprehensive speed testing.

We'll discuss payment upon successful completion of these final verification steps.

Marcus

Alex stared at the email, recognizing the setup immediately. Marcus hadn't found flaws in the code—he'd found his excuse to get the system onto his servers before payment. Once the code was deployed to his infrastructure, Marcus would have everything he needed to cut Alex out entirely.

His phone rang. Lena's number.

"Tell me you're not falling for this," she said without preamble.

"Live demo tomorrow, then deployment to his servers for 'speed testing,'" Alex confirmed, pulling up the server monitoring dashboard where Thanatos slept peacefully in the code.

"Classic bait and switch. He gets your code on his infrastructure, then claims the speed test revealed additional issues requiring modifications. By the time you're done 'fixing' problems that don't exist, he owns everything."

Alex opened a new terminal window, checking the self-destruct protocols one more time. Every trigger condition was perfectly calibrated. Unauthorized admin deletions, file transfers without authentication tokens, attempts to lock out the original developer—any of Marcus's typical theft methods would wake the sleeping program.

"What if I demand payment before deployment?" Alex asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Then he claims you're not fulfilling contract obligations for performance verification. Either way, he gets to keep your work without paying."

But Alex was no longer the naive contractor who'd walked into Marcus's office six weeks ago. The twelve-day gauntlet had burned away his idealism, leaving something harder and infinitely more dangerous. If Marcus wanted to play his game of digital theft, then Alex would let him—right up until the moment it destroyed him.

"I'm taking the meeting," Alex said.

"Alex—"

"But I'm taking it on my terms."

The next afternoon, Alex stood once again in Marcus's office, but everything had changed. Where he'd once felt intimidated by the wealth and power on display, now he saw only the trappings of a predator who'd grown careless from too many easy victories.

Marcus looked exactly the same—immaculate suit, predatory smile, eyes that calculated the value of everything they saw. But Alex could see through the performance now, recognizing the barely concealed eagerness beneath the professional facade.

"Alex, excellent work meeting that challenging deadline. Truly impressive." Marcus gestured to the presentation screen that had been set up. "Shall we see what you've built?"

Alex connected his laptop and began the demonstration. The system was flawless—every query response measured in milliseconds, user interfaces that flowed like silk, database operations that handled massive loads without breaking stride. It was the best work of his career, and Marcus's expression shifted from feigned interest to genuine hunger as the capabilities became clear.

"Remarkable," Marcus murmured, leaning forward as Alex demonstrated the property matching algorithm. "The user experience is incredibly smooth."

"The backend architecture is designed for scale," Alex explained, showing database optimization reports. "It could handle the entire European rental market without performance degradation."

Marcus's eyes gleamed. Alex could practically see the billionaire calculating how much money this system would generate, how completely it would dominate the market he'd been trying to corner for years.

"Now I need to see it perform under real server conditions," Marcus said, his voice carefully controlled. "Can you deploy it to our production environment for comprehensive testing?"

Here it was. The moment Marcus had been engineering from their first handshake. Alex kept his expression neutral, professional, even as satisfaction coursed through him.

"Of course. But I'll need the milestone payment first. Standard industry practice for production deployments."

Marcus's smile faltered for just a moment before reassembling itself. "Alex, we discussed this. Payment follows successful performance verification. It's clearly outlined in our agreement."

"Section 7.3 specifies payment upon completion of Phase 1 deliverables," Alex countered smoothly. "Performance testing is verification, not a prerequisite for payment."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Marcus stood, moving to the window that overlooked his empire, hands clasped behind his back in a pose that screamed barely contained frustration.

"I see we have different interpretations of our agreement," Marcus said finally. "Perhaps we need to involve legal counsel to clarify the terms."

It was a threat wrapped in politeness, the same weapon Marcus had used to break dozens of contractors before Alex. Legal fees that would cost more than the original payment, months of court battles against a team of corporate lawyers, reputation damage that would end careers.

But Alex had spent twelve days building more than just code. He'd built a trap.

"That won't be necessary," Alex said, pulling out his phone. "I'm confident in the work quality. Let's proceed with deployment."

Marcus turned from the window, his predatory smile returning. "Excellent. Professional flexibility—I knew I chose the right developer."

Alex began the upload process, watching progress bars creep toward completion while Marcus made small talk about future projects and expanded partnerships. The billionaire was practically vibrating with anticipation, no doubt already planning how to lock Alex out of his own creation.

"Upload complete," Alex announced. "The system is now running on your production servers."

"Perfect. Now we can begin comprehensive testing." Marcus moved to his own computer, pulling up administrative dashboards. "This might take some time to evaluate properly."

Alex's phone chimed. A new email notification.

From: [email protected]
Subject: Milestone Payment Confirmation
Time: 3:47 PM

Dear Mr. Volkov,

This confirms that your milestone payment of €75,000 has been processed and will appear in your account within 24 hours.

Thank you for your excellent work on the Thorne Realty platform project.

Best regards,
Thorne Realty Finance Department

Alex opened the email, scanning the payment confirmation details. Bank routing numbers, transaction references, official letterhead—everything looked legitimate. Exactly what he'd been waiting six weeks to receive.

Except Lena had taught him to look deeper.

The email headers showed routing through a temporary server. The bank routing number was one digit off from the legitimate institution. The confirmation code format didn't match standard banking protocols. It was a masterful forgery, but still a forgery.

"Looks like the payment came through," Alex said casually, showing Marcus the email.

Marcus glanced at the screen, his expression carefully neutral. "Wonderful. Now we can focus on optimizing performance without any administrative distractions."

Alex nodded, pocketing his phone. Marcus had just confirmed everything Alex needed to know. The fake payment email wasn't a mistake or technical error—it was bait, designed to make Alex believe he'd been paid while Marcus prepared to steal everything.

"I should head out and let you run your tests," Alex said, closing his laptop. "The system documentation includes all the performance optimization guides you'll need."

"Actually, before you go," Marcus said, typing rapidly at his workstation, "I'd like to set up dedicated administrative access for our technical team. For ongoing maintenance and updates."

Alex watched Marcus's fingers flying across the keyboard, creating new admin accounts, preparing to delete Alex's access entirely. Standard theft protocol—lock out the original developer, then claim the system was built by internal staff.

"Of course," Alex replied. "Whatever you need for the testing process."

Marcus's smile was triumphant. "I think this is the beginning of a very profitable partnership, Alex."

As Alex rode the elevator down from the thirty-eighth floor, he pulled out his phone and opened a monitoring app that connected directly to Thanatos. The program was still sleeping, but Alex could see the server logs updating in real-time. Marcus was moving fast, probably thinking he needed to secure the theft before Alex realized the payment was fake.

Administrative accounts being created. File permissions being modified. And there—Alex's original developer access being systematically deleted.

Thanatos stirred in the code like a digital predator opening its eyes.

Alex stepped out of the Thorne Realty building into the afternoon sunlight, pulled out his phone, and called Lena.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

"Perfectly," Alex said, watching the building's gleaming facade. "He took the bait, hook, line, and sinker. Fake payment email, server deployment, and he's already trying to lock me out of the system."

"So we spring the trap?"

Alex looked up at the thirty-eighth floor, where Marcus Thorne was probably celebrating what he thought was another successful theft. The billionaire had no idea that in trying to steal Alex's work, he was about to trigger the most elegant piece of destructive code ever written.

"Not yet," Alex said. "Let him think he's won. Let him get comfortable. Thanatos is patient."

"And when he realizes the payment was fake?"

Alex smiled, the expression carrying no warmth at all. "By then, it'll be too late. He wanted to play games with digital contracts? Now he gets to learn what happens when the contract plays back."

Forty floors above, Marcus Thorne was putting the finishing touches on what he believed was another masterful theft, never suspecting that every keystroke was being logged, every action catalogued, every theft attempt building toward a reckoning that would make his previous victims' losses look like pocket change.

The bait had been taken. The trap was set.

Soon, very soon, Thanatos would wake up hungry.