"Could be. Or someone backdated the transfer to hide when the money actually moved." He's chewing on his pen cap, a habit I've noticed emerges when he's thinking hard. The plastic is already dented from his teeth. "If I had access to the original bank records, I could cross-reference the timestamps. These are just copies. Copies can be altered."
"You're suggesting the archive itself has been compromised."
"I'm suggesting that whoever built this system was smart enough to leave false trails." He pulls the pen from his mouth and points it at me. "Think about it. Moore kept this archive for decades. He was paranoid, careful, obsessive about documentation. But he was also Silent. He knew what would happen if this stuff fell into the wrong hands."
"So he built in safeguards."
"Exactly. Kreiss didn't get to where he is by being sloppy. And Moore didn't survive as long as he did by leaving easy paths to follow." He drops the pen and stretches, arms above his head, spine popping audibly. The hem of his shirt rides up, exposing a strip of skin above his waistband. I can see the edge of a bruise there. My fingerprints, colored onto his hip.
My cock jumps and I look away, clearing my throat.
"We need the originals," he says, oblivious to my distraction. Or maybe not oblivious. Maybe choosing to ignore it. "Or access to the Swiss banking network directly. Do you have contacts who could—"
My phone rings. Not my work line. My personal one. The number on the screen makes my stomach tighten.
"I have to take this."
Jonah raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment. I step out into the hallway and close the door behind me.
"Jace."
"You sound tense." My brother's voice is calmer than I've heard it in years. Softer. Whatever Elliot is doing for him, it's working. "Jinx said you hung up on him."
"Jinx talks too much."
"He's worried about you. So am I."
"I'm fine."
"You're always fine. That's the problem." A pause. I hear something in the background. Birds. He's outside. "Jinx says you've got an asset at your residence. Off the books."
"It's strategic."
"That's what you told him. He didn't believe it either."
I pinch the bridge of my nose. My brothers are many things, but stupid isn't one of them. Lying to them has always been harder than lying to anyone else.
"It's complicated."
"Complicated how?"
"The asset has information I need. Information about Project Omega."
Silence on the line. When Jace speaks again, his voice has lost its softness.
"What kind of information?"
"I'm still piecing it together. But Jace—" I stop. Consider how much to say. "There are things in Moore's archive. Things about us. About how we came to be."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know yet. That's why I need more time."
Another pause. I can picture him standing on some Alpine balcony, Elliot probably watching from inside, that tension he carries whenever he’s apart from Jace.
"You're not telling me everything," Jace says.
"No."
