Viper acknowledged it without comment.
This wasn’t proof.
Not yet.
But it was enough to know where the rot might start.
Law connected to Sage.
“What’s up?”
“See what you can find. I’ve got a phone.”
“Stand real still,” Sage said seriously.
“Smartass,” Law muttered, and Sage laughed.
Law routed the perp’s phone through his secure line, passing the data cleanly.
A moment later, Sage came back.
“Well, this is a mess of ghost accounts. Financial routing designed to disappear into paperwork and time. But I’m seeing transfers layered through nonprofits. Development funds. Calls that line up a little too neatly with known movement windows—timing that doesn’t scream guilt, but whispers proximity,” Sage rattled off.
“Sage,” Viper said quietly. “I need to know if the name on there is dirty.”
“I’m on it,” Sage said. “I’ll keep digging and send you what I find.”
The line went quiet.
Viper squinted at the room—and the damage Titus had left behind.
Law watched his face as he lowered the phone, tipping his chin toward the bodies. “This feels personal.”
“Yes,” Viper said. “But we can’t confirm shit off a name on a phone.”
Law studied him for a beat. “You’re worried Titus will decide before we confirm.”
“I’m worried he’ll decide alone.”
That earned a quiet nod. “You don’t usually talk like that about assets.”
“He isn’t one,” Viper said. The correction came fast. Clean. “And you know it. He’s Erebus.”
Law’s mouth tilted faintly. “Good news is, he listens when you speak. You don’t pull rank with him.”
Viper didn’t acknowledge it. That was between him and Titus.
Law locked the perp’s phone and set it on the dead man’s chest.
“So that name on the phone is big,” Law said. “Top dog. You think he’s dirty?”
“We’ll find out soon.”
That was the rule. Always had been.
They investigated first.
They didn’t kill on suspicion. They didn’t let history or proximity make the call.
