Chapter 31
Brie
I flew through the Meridian server’s file structure, searching for evidence.
I’d already completed my first goal—I’d found the photos of Scarlett in a subdirectory labeled “Reynolds Insurance.” The images showed her stealing the Chalcis Ring from the Albrecht house in April.
They were the blackmail that had dragged the team to Rome and da Vinci’s vault weeks later.
I’d watched her steal the ring from my spot at home while I was hacked into the Albrecht’s security feed six months ago. Seeing my sister’s face in those pictures made my stomach clench. They weren’t from the security cameras. Enzo had been watching her.
Focus on your success, Brie. The photos confirmed Meridian wasn’t some random corporate client and that S. Hayes was genuinely the one from Mum’s research.
This was Fenix.
The photos had to wait, though. Deleting them could signal an intrusion, and I needed to work invisibly until I’d identified everything I needed.
I skimmed through files dating back to 2004, folders labeled with cryptic codes and shell company names. Black Crown Holdings appeared repeatedly, but so did others. Each name Mum had identified was there, along with financial records, wire transfers, and operational directives.
It would take weeks, if not months, to analyze everything.
Hurry, Brie! Upload them to your cloud drive and keep searching for Dad!
I clicked through subdirectories, opening files at random. Legal documents and bank records. Email chains between aliases I didn’t recognize. The system lagged as I added more files to the stream being transferred to the drive I’d set up to receive what I found.
And then, I found the most important file.
A single email, dated three days before my father’s arrest, which read:
Transfer to J. Reynolds account confirmed. $50,000 deposited as discussed. Financial trail established. Proceed with Phase 2. —E
Evidence. Actual proof of the financial frame-up.
Who sent it? Who’s E? Enzo? The email address was a random string of letters and numbers. Worry about that later.
“The cameras are off,” came a male voice next to me.
I jumped and spun to see Will approach, and my already racing heart added at least twenty more beats per minute. I hadn’t heard him.
“Thanks,” I said, turning back to the screen. “That’s—”
“Did you get my message about it?”
I frowned, pulling up another file, this one a photo of my father by a building.
“Brie.” His voice carried a warning. “Did you log in without waiting for me to disable the cameras?”
“Of course not!” I’d been tempted to. I’d stood in front of the KVM drawer for what had felt like an hour, waiting for Will’s text.
But I had waited.
And I’d found what we needed. Instead of confessing, I gestured to the screen. “I’ve found details. Multiple shell companies, operational records going back decades. And an email about Dad.”
I added the contents of the folder to my upload, but the progress bar inched forward agonizingly slowly. The files were large, and I’d selected a lot of them.
“We have to get you out of here.” Will moved closer, dropping his voice. “If you’re still logged in when the cameras come back on, someone in security might notice.”
“I just need a few more minutes.” I navigated deeper into the directory structure. The upload progress bar at the bottom of the screen had practically stalled. “There’s so much here—art smuggling records, other victims, current operatives. I can find more information about Dad—”
“Brie.” Will checked his watch. “The cameras can only be out for eight more minutes.”
“I’m close. So close. I can’t stop now.”
“How much time do you need?”
What I really needed was to grab the server and take it home. “Fifteen more minutes to make sure I’ve got the right folders. Then the upload will take a while after that. It’s so fucking slow.”
“When you close the KVM, will it disconnect you?”
“I don’t know. It might disrupt the transfer.”
“We can’t leave the drawer open.”
Will was right, but if I could get everything we needed today, we’d be done. Able to go home. I stumbled into another folder with references to my father’s case and an “eliminated asset” named Collins.
Collins. Another name from my mother’s list.
“I know I can do this,” I muttered, opening another subdirectory.
Will’s hands covered mine, pulling them away from the keyboard. He pivoted me until I faced him directly, his face inches from mine. This close, I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, but also the absolute confidence in my abilities.
“You know how to get into the server,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You know where the data is. This needs to be done in steps, not all at once. You need to log out, and we’ll make a plan for uploading in stages.”
The intensity in his brown eyes cut through my tunnel vision. He read me the way he always did. And Will was right. If security saw me accessing a server I shouldn’t be able to open, they’d revoke my access. I didn’t have enough intel yet, so I couldn’t risk it.
It felt like tearing out my own heart, but I scrubbed the log file, removing my digital footprint. Then, I logged out of the system entirely. The terminal returned to its login prompt. I slid the KVM drawer back into the rack. The soft click screamed at me, telling me I’d failed.
“We’ll figure something out tonight,” Will said. “We’ll find a way to get you more time.”
I nodded. “And I’ll design an automated search routine that will help me scan files faster.”
“Good.” He braced my shoulders and smiled at me. “Now I need to hurry back to the maintenance panel and turn those cameras back on before my window’s gone.”
And I’d need an excuse to tell Claire why I’d returned without the sweater I was supposed to retrieve. I’d have to say I got lost, maybe stopped to use the bathroom. Something believable that wouldn’t make her suspicious of why a simple task had taken so long.
Unless she’d already checked with security and knew I hadn’t left the server room?
The sound of wheels on the floor reached us. Without hesitation, Will pushed me against the server rack door, his body and mouth crashing against me.
His kiss was urgent, his hand cupping the back of my head while his other gripped my waist.
Heat exploded through me, my body responding instantly.
Yes! I’d wanted this again since our kiss on the beach. But it’s just cover, Brie. Same as the last time.
My hands ignored my brain, grabbing his neck and pulling him closer. I hooked his leg with my own, knowing the routine this time, knowing how to sell the illusion of newlyweds who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
But, oh god, the way his tongue swept against mine. How his hand found my back, pulling me against him.
“What are you doing over here?” came a voice that was too close. Ronnie.
We broke apart, both breathing hard. Will stepped back but kept a hand on my waist, playing the part of the interrupted husband.
Ronnie’s perpetual scowl softened into a chuckle as he pushed his crash cart closer. He pointed at me. “You’re in trouble.”
My stomach dropped, but Will’s thumb stroked reassuringly across my back. Had Ronnie seen me with the KVM out? Had he heard me close it?
I straightened my glasses, which had gotten twisted in the kiss. Try playing dumb for once. “I am?”
“Claire was expecting you back fifteen minutes ago.”
Relief flooded through me so suddenly that I almost sagged against the rack door. I bit my lip and looked up at Will, who seemed far too calm about all this.
“She was some pissed when I showed up. Accused me of spying on her.” Ronnie stopped his cart in front of us and shook his head, clearly amused. “She finished her update and stormed back to The Bridge.”
Will let go of me. “Sorry, Ronnie.”
“Our shift’s pretty much over,” Ronnie said to Will. “You may as well head out now.” He winked. “But in the future, no funny business in the server room. Brie’s a co-worker in here, no matter what.”
Thank god.
Will abruptly doubled over, clutching his stomach with both hands. His face contorted in apparent pain.
Ronnie chuckled again. “The burrito wasn’t just a ploy to sneak off with your wife?”
Will straightened enough to shake his head, then hurried off, one hand still pressed to his abdomen.
Ronnie continued past me with his cart. “Not much sexier than that, is there?”
Grumpy Ronnie was amused by us sneaking around for a romantic rendezvous? At least, this one time. That was fortunate. Claire wouldn’t find it as amusing that I abandoned her to fool around with my husband during work hours, but it was probably as good an excuse as any.
Time to face the music.