A bead of sweat slid down Andy’s spine. Hedragged his free hand through his hair, fingers catching in the strands.
“You have her,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. It was a rhetorical statement. He’d known before answering the call that the Devil’s Crew had her, and Diego had confirmed it already. But the fact was just starting to sink into Andy’s mind.
“That’s right,” Diego said calmly. “Let’s call her your... motivation.”
“You’re insane.”
“No,” Diego replied. “I’m practical. I know your weak spot. I used it. That’s not crazy, that’s just... effective.”
The word landed wrong, heavy with meaning he didn’t like.
His legs were unsteady, so he dropped back onto the couch before they could give out. The cushions dipped under his weight, the familiar sag somehow making everything worse.
“What do you want me to do?” Andy forced out, even though dread was already curling low in his stomach. He knew the answer. He just didn’t want to hear it.
Diego let out a loud breath, the kind that said he was getting impatient. “Don’t play dumb, Bing. We already went over this. That crypto account? The one on the exchange our people use to park funds before moving them? Yeah. That one needs some attention.”
Andy’s throat tightened. “You want me to mess with someone’s crypto—that’s not nothing.”
“I want you to do exactly what you already proved you can do,” Diego said, voice smooth and unbothered. “Get into the account, change where the funds go, and push a withdrawal. Simple. In and out. Done before anyone realizes what happened.”
“That’s not clean!” He jumped to his feet and paced the living room, running his free hand through his hair. “That’s—that’s theft! That’s federal crime stuff!” Again, he was preaching to the choir.
“Relax. You’re acting like I want you to rob a bank in person,” Diego said. “Crypto moves all night, every night. Nobody notices until it’s already gone. By then, it’s not their problem anymore.”
“And if I don’t do it?” he asked quietly. “What happens to Tess?”
A beat of silence stretched on the line—too long, too deliberate.
“You’re smart enough to understand how this works.”
The asshole was right. Andy understood that refusing wasn’t just saying no—it was choosing what would happen to Tess. And that choice would be his to live with.
He couldn’t lose her. Everyone else was already gone. Their grandparents and one uncle had died years ago, and Andy barely remembered any of them. Only one blood relative was left—an aunt in California whohad never really been part of their lives. When the accident took their parents, the world didn’t leave him much behind. Just Tess. And if he lost her too, he didn’t know who he’d be anymore.
He knew enough to recognize how badly this could go—and that scared him more than knowing nothing at all. The gaps in his knowledge yawned open, impossible to ignore.
His thoughts spiraled through digital trails, security logs, IP tracing, transaction monitoring—systems designed to remember everything. He could picture the alarms waiting to be tripped, the silent flags that wouldn’t show themselves until it was already too late. This wasn’t rerouting an IP or blurring a connection. This was cracking a vault and standing inside it, heart pounding, hoping the walls didn’t start closing before he figured out how to erase every trace of himself.
He’d have to research. Carefully. Quietly. Because one mistake wouldn’t just expose him—it would put a permanent mark on the chain.
“Why me?” Andy demanded, the words tumbling out rough and fast. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I could fuck it up.”
Diego’s voice came back stripped of humor, stripped of charm. Flat. Mean. “Fuck it up, and you’ll never see your sister again.”
Andy’s breath vanished. Gone—like his lungs had forgotten what they were for. His vision blurred, heatrushing to his face, then draining just as fast. “Don’t,” he choked. “Don’t say that.”
“I’m not saying it,” Diego replied coldly. “I’m explaining it.”
Andy staggered back against the dining table, knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge. His mind skidded, scrambling for something—anything—that didn’t end in bloodshed.
For a second, he could almost feel Tess’s hug from last week—her arms around his shoulders, warm and solid when he’d shown her his final grades. The way she’d said she was proud of him. The way he’d rolled his eyes and shrugged like it didn’t matter, while secretly letting the words sink deep and stay there.
“And I’m also proud of you. Mom and Dad would be proud too. You’re a good kid—don’t ever forget that.”
His chest burned, and his stomach twisted, hard enough to make him dizzy.
“When?” he asked finally, his voice barely holding together. “When does this happen? I—I have to look some stuff up because I’ve never done this before.”
