But I step across the threshold anyway.
The tech den is like stepping into a different world. It looks like the security room of a high-end casino, but instead of surveillance feeds, multiple monitors display computer interfaces I can barely comprehend. Servers hum quietly in the corner, their blue lights blinking like watchful eyes.
I swallow hard, feeling like they’re watching me too.
I’m completely out of my depth with computers, so I head straight for the filing cabinet in the corner. Sometimes, the most important information is still kept in hard copy, especially when it comes to things you don’t want stored digitally.
My hands shake as I rifle through the files.
Background checks on club members.
Financial records.
Meeting minutes.
And then I find it.
A file with my brother’s name.
Marcus Delaney.
My heart leaps into my throat. I flip it open with trembling fingers only to feel the rush drain right back out of me. It’s thin. Too thin. Just the official report, the same one I’ve read before—death ruled by road accident. The same neat lie the police fed me.
No answers.
No truth.
Just paper and ink designed to bury my brother twice over.
Frustration burns in my chest. My gaze jerks to the monitors glowing in the dim room, rows of interfaces blinking like they’re mocking me. I don’t want to go near them. I don’t understand them. But if the paper files have been scrubbed, maybe the digital ones haven’t.
The thought makes my stomach twist. If I do this, if I leave fingerprints where I shouldn’t, I’ll be exposed.
If Sin ever found out…
But Marcus’ name echoes in my head, pushing me forward.
So I drag myself to the nearest terminal and lower into the chair, my pulse hammering as I place my hands on the keyboard. My fingers hover over the keys, already shaking. I click, and a password prompt slams into place like a steel door. Adrenaline surges through me as I search around Ghost’s desk for a password book. But I come up short. I’m going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.Guesswork.
“Okay… c’mon, think. Use those journalistic instincts,” I murmur to myself, while letting out a long breath. “The code to the door…maybe, but it wouldn’t just be that, that’s too easy.It would be with something else… think, think, think,” I mutter under my breath.
I start typing in the password prompt, knowing I only have three tries max to get in, but I have a hunch, and I’m going to follow it.
“Here goes,” I say and start typing.
Def52ian78ce91
ADONKsounds, and the password prompt shakes from side to side a couple of times, letting me know I entered the wrong password.
“Shit… okay, let’s try another one,” I mumble, my muscles tensing.
D5ef2ian78ce91
DONKsounds and the password prompt shakes again, letting me know my attempts are all coming down to this one final attempt. Rolling my neck, I feel the tension bracing through my body as I glance back at the den door, just to make sure Liam is not watching on in horror. I feel like he is watching me, even though deep down I know he has been toldnotto move from his sentry at the clubhouse gate. Still, a part of me is sure he is going to walk in on me at any given moment.
“Pull yourself together… just think about it, you can do this.” I give myself one final pep talk, and then begin typing my final try to gain access to Ghost’s computer.
D5e2f7i8a9n1cE
