“He’s been watching us foryears,” Theo said.
King’s voice cut through, cold and sharp. “This isn’t just surveillance. It’s an archive.”
My blood ran cold as I found more envelopes, some torn, some sealed, but each marked with black ink featuring the names of every person in this room—andBenoit.
Alessio cursed as he opened a drawer beside him and picked up a hard drive. “Well, looky what we have here.” He plugged it into the computer, and soon, lines of code began to scroll across the screen.“Encrypted,” he muttered, his fingers flying over the keys. Several folders popped up on the screen, and he clicked on one. “Huh.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Lachlan said. “What is all that?”
“Financial records… Timestamps from six years ago. This is one of our old shell accounts.”
King’s expression hardened. “No. That was scrubbed.”
“Apparently not. There’s a video file, too.”
Theo’s gaze snapped toward him and he abandoned his file. “Play it.”
The video flickered at first before settling on a dark-headed thirty-something man seated in front of a computer monitor. With the angle of the screen, it seemed the camera was one forsecurity up in the top corner of the room. It didn’t seem to be recording somewhere important, not with the piles of papers littering the desk and not much else of note in the room. Maybe it was a home office? But why would a home office need a security camera?
The man’s voice was shaking slightly as he spoke urgently to whoever was on the other end of his cell phone.
“I think they’ve caught on,” he said, lowering the phone onto the desk. He tapped the button for speakerphone, leaving his hands free to type something into the computer.
The voice on the other end of the line sounded a lot like the man in the office, only slightly deeper. “They don’t know a thing. Trust me.”
“Then why can’t I access any of their accounts? They’ve all just fuckin’ disappeared.”
“You can find them again.”
“You’re not listening. The fact their shit’s been moved in the first place is a problem. You don’t move hundreds of mils without a reason.”
There was a deep sigh from the man on the line. “You’re being paranoid. These rich assholes probably take precautions like this all the time.”
“I don’t think so. I need?—”
“To handle it. Or I will.”
“Who the fuck made you the boss?”
He snorted. “Eldest child privileges. Call me when it’s done.”
The call ended and the man in the video grumbled under his breath before slapping the phone off the table. He held his head in frustration for a long time before going back to typing on the computer, but a few seconds in, he whirled around in his chair suddenly to face the door.
Utter shock and terror were written all over his face as he scrambled to his feet, holding his hands up.
At first it was hard to tell what had him so frightened, but then a familiar figure stepped through the doorway, his gun aimed straight at him.
King.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen as King stalked forward, pure vengeance radiating off every part of him. He looked scary as fuck, and I wondered what the hell this guy had done to provoke him.
“You can’t be all that surprised,” King said.
The man swallowed and moved away, tripping over his chair. “Th-the money?—”
“It’s not about the money. Siphoning from us is a shit thing to do, but it won’t get you killed.” King stepped in even closer, leaving nowhere for the man to go. “But you made a grave mistake. You threatened exposure, which, in turn, puts me at risk. Puts my men at risk. My entire organization.”
The man’s mouth opened and shut, like he wanted to fight that claim but couldn’t.
