Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!-Chapter 171: Oblivious Locked Targets 1

Parker leaned back into the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose as Cassidy’s voice rang out through the phone.

"You know," she teased, a smirk audible even over the call, "you said you wanted an all-alone week. Just you and your peace, right? So much for that. It didn’t even take an hour before all hell broke loose."

"Cassidy—" he started, his tone halfway between frustrated and amused, but before he could finish, she gave him one last laugh and ended the call.

"Of course," Parker muttered, exhaling slowly as the screen went dark.

He turned his attention to Ava, who was still grinning like she’d just won some private victory. She saluted him mockingly before hanging up herself.

Tessa’s laughter cut through the silence, soft but teasing. "You heard them. Guess it’s my turn now. Let me protect you, Mr. Cold Billionaire," she said, handing him a glass of wine with both hands, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

Parker accepted it with a raised brow. "You’re not protecting me, Tessa. You’re driving me insane."

"Exactly!" she said, nodding with exaggerated enthusiasm, her lips curving into a devilish smile. "That’s the whole point. Someone’s gotta save you from yourself, and lucky for you, that’s my job now."

He shook his head, but there was a flicker of warmth in his expression. "Dangerous job."

"Worth the paycheck," she quipped, clinking her glass against his.

****

As they sipped their wine, the atmosphere in the living room softened. Naomi and Elena worked quietly in the background, clearing the dishes and leaving the two of them to their moment. The female lawyer had long since retreated to the guest room, probably grateful for the excuse to escape the chaos.

Parker rested his arm along the back of the couch, his eyes flicking to Tessa, who was staring into her glass like it held some hidden truth. For a moment, everything felt normal—comfortable, even.

Tessa shifted, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was softer, almost fragile. "You know, earlier… at the rodeo…" She paused, swallowing hard like she was trying to choke down whatever emotion was clawing its way to the surface. "I thought it was happening all over again."

Parker didn’t have to ask what she meant. He knew.

Her uncle.

That shadow still clung to her, even after all this time. She might’ve built walls around it, painted them over with smiles and clever words, but tonight had cracked those walls wide open.

"You’re safe now," he said quietly, setting his glass down and leaning closer, his hand brushing hers. "He’s never gonna touch you again. No one will." Discover hidden content at novelbuddy

Tessa gave a small, shaky laugh, but it wasn’t her usual mischievous one. This one was bitter, tired. "You can’t promise that, Parker. Not really. There’s always gonna be someone. People like him… they don’t just disappear."

Parker’s jaw tightened, his hand tightening around hers. "I can promise you this: anyone who tries? They’ll regret it. But I’ll protect you so no one will hurt you again!"

She looked at him then, her eyes glassy but steady, searching his face like she was trying to figure out how he could sound so damn certain. Finally, she nodded, letting out a long breath.

"You’re a lot, you know that?" she said, her voice breaking into a wobbly smile.

"So are you," he shot back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Guess we’re even."

Tessa laughed again, but this time it sounded lighter, more real. She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder, her glass still cradled in her hands.

"Thanks," she whispered, so softly he almost didn’t catch it.

"For what?"

"For being here. For being you."

Parker didn’t respond right away. He just tilted his head to rest lightly against hers, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. The room fell quiet, save for the faint sounds of Naomi and Elena finishing up in the kitchen.

And for the first time that night, it felt like maybe, just maybe, they were starting to put the pieces back together.

****

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The mansion was quiet, but inside one of its dimly lit rooms, the glow of multiple screens painted the walls in shifting shades of blue and green. Three figures sat hunched over a sleek workstation, the soft clatter of a keyboard filling the air as lines of code scrolled down at a rapid pace. They weren’t playing games.

They were tracking someone.

On the largest screen, CCTV footage flickered—grainy clips from different angles, stitched together like puzzle pieces. A figure moved through the city, captured in brief glimpses—a passing reflection on a store window, a shadow slipping between streetlights, a blurry outline in an office lobby. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.

"Last confirmed sighting was near Westwood," the first guy muttered, adjusting his headset as he zoomed in on a timestamp. "She was working for some corporate firm. Looks like they relocated her, though."

The second guy, fingers flying over his keyboard, let out a low whistle. "Got a hit. Final traces show a new address… somewhere in Beverly Hills."

The third kid, sitting back with a Red Bull in hand, raised an eyebrow. "Damn. They tucked her into the good side of town, huh? What’s the place look like?"

A new window popped open—a satellite image of a mansion nestled in the hills. Not one of those obnoxiously oversized Hollywood homes dripping in gold and marble, but sleek. Private. Expensive in a way that didn’t scream wealth but whispered it with confidence.

The second guy leaned in, eyes narrowing at the details. "It’s a mansion, yeah, but… it’s subtle. No crazy security, no gates lined with cameras. Feels more like a rich dude’s actual home than some billionaire’s flex."

"Yeah, well, rich is rich," the first guy said, already pulling up a secure line. "Sending the location over to our client now—"

"Wait." The second guy held up a hand, eyes flicking across his screen. "Hold the fuck up."

Both of them turned to him, waiting.

"Something’s off," he muttered, typing faster, cross-referencing data, digging deeper. Then his fingers slowed, and his lips parted just slightly as he read the results. "Yo…"

"What?"

The kid exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he double-checked the information. Then, he turned to them with an incredulous look.

"The house is registered under a student."

A beat of silence.

"…At our school."

The third guy frowned. "You mean, like, some rich kid’s parents own it?"

"No. I mean the kid owns it. Straight-up, full-name-on-the-deed owns it."

They all stared at each other.

"Well, shit. Who’s it?"