Was I outing Shorty? But from a tactical standpoint, holding back now would do more harm than good. Perhaps this could be an opportunity to gain at least some trust from both the Salvini family and the Falcone family. And Vince needed to know. How else could they protect Shorty if he didn’t know of her dangerous side hustle?
“Because she’s Iset,” I said. “She’s one of the most talented hackers in the world. She’s exposed several of Grey’s operations, costing him millions. She can get into systems 99.9% of people can’t.”
The reaction was immediate. Shock spread across Vince’s face; Matt straightened, eyes widening. Alex pushed off from the balustrade, suddenly attentive. Dom’s expression sharpened with interest. But it was Vince’s reaction that concerned me most—a complex mixture of disbelief, confusion, and dawning realization. “Fuck me,” Vince said, but uncertainty had crept into his voice. “Isabella isn’t?—”
“She’s Iset. I thought since you found out your wife was involved with her, you knew…”
Vince stared at me, but I could see the wheels turning.
“They hacked your own enterprise,” I said, now slightly amused. How could Vince Salvini not know what had been happening directly under his nose? “She exposed Grey’s Singapore trafficking ring last year,” I continued, seeing no reason to backtrack now. “Redirected the funds to various charities. Grey’s been hunting for Iset’s real identity ever since.”
Matt and Vince exchanged looks of disbelief as Vince processed this revelation. I watched the mental calculations play across his face—memories reexamined, unexplainedabsences suddenly making sense, the pieces falling into place. “My wife and my sister,” Vince said slowly, “have been operating together as vigilante hackers right under our noses?”
I nodded. “And your sister is very, very good at it.”
A flash of something—anger, perhaps—crossed Vince’s face before he masked it, then his expression shifted slightly, something like reluctant pride flickering across his features. Interesting. For all his protective instincts, he couldn’t help but admire her skill. I understood the feeling all too well. “And Grey figured out it was her?”
“That’s why we demanded her,” I confirmed. “Though I didn’t know the reason at the time. She cost him millions. She’s that good.”
“You almost sound impressed, Zotov,” Alex noted, his tone probing.
I kept my expression neutral though something in my chest tightened at the accusation buried in his observation. I was more than impressed by his sister. Actually, if I counted all of the feelings I had about Shorty, they went beyond the top five. “I recognize and appreciate exceptional skill.”
He continued to stare at me, and for whatever reason, I felt the need to continue. “It’s not personal.”
The lie tasted bitter. Everything about Shorty had become personal. But before I revealed that in front of her family, I needed to talk to her about how she wanted to handle it.
I moved to the stone railing, giving myself space to think. The ocean stretched before us, deceptively peaceful against the chaos of our conversation. The sun glinted off the water, momentarily blinding in its intensity. “Grey’sobviously gone rogue,” I continued, “but Isabella and I have a plan to expose him.”
Vince’s eyes narrowed again. “Isabella and you?”
I nodded.
“You seem awfully close to my sister. What’s that all about?” He stared me down, and I kept eye contact while I outlined our strategy to access the Paraskia database, explaining we suspected it might already contain evidence of Grey’s unauthorized operations. “If we’re right, and if we can find proof, we can expose him.” And if I was very lucky, Vince would forget the question he asked about Shorty and me and our relationship.
“And you think your organization will act when it has watched for this long?” Matt asked, his tone suggesting he understood institutional corruption all too well.
“The council values stability above all,” I answered. “Grey’s actions risk exposure of the entire network. Even if it’s not their moral code, self-preservation will force their hand. And to be honest, I’m not sure if Grey isn’t already being investigated.”
Vince pushed off from the railing, his movement fluid and controlled. “This all sounds very convenient, Zotov. Grey becomes the scapegoat, the Paraskia cleanses its reputation, and you… What exactly do you get out of this?”
A fair question and one I wasn’t entirely sure I had an answer to anymore. A week ago, my motivation would have been clear—leverage, security, the means to part ways peacefully, and continued protection of my siblings. Now…
“Grey has compromised everything the organization stands for,” I said instead. “And he’s put my family at risk by using them for his personal shit.”
Not the whole truth but not a lie either.
“So what now?” Alex asked, speaking for the first time. His voice was calm, controlled—all the more dangerous for its reasonableness.
“We wait until we confirm Grey’s off the island, which should be any minute now, then make our move,” I responded. “Isabella accesses the database, we gather evidence, we expose him through the proper channels, and we are off the island.”
“And we’re supposed to just trust you?” Matt challenged, skepticism evident in every line of his body.
I met his gaze steadily. “We all want the same thing—to protect our families and end Grey’s operation.”
The simple truth resonated across the patio. Even Cristo’s aggressive stance softened marginally. In that moment, a tentative alliance formed—fragile as glass but potentially just as effective when wielded correctly.
“You’ve been investigating Grey? So have we,” I added, allowing a calculated vulnerability to enter my voice. “Perhaps we’re not so different after all.”
