Liam
Ryan’s bedroom looks like NASA crashed into a bomb shelter.
His desk is a disaster zone of energy drinks, a cold, half-eaten sandwich, and stacks of hard drives.
Three monitors flicker with columns of numbers, various feeds and security alerts, while a tangle of wires snakes across the floor.
He doesn’t even turn around when I walk in.
“You’re late,” Ryan says, without looking up. His fingers don’t stop flying across the keyboard.
“Good to see you too, little brother,” I shoot back, kicking a stray cable out of my way as I step inside. “You know, one of these days, I’m going to trip over this junk and break my neck. Then you’ll be stuck explaining to Da that you killed his heir with your bad housekeeping skills.”
“Just stick to the path I’ve cleared and you’ll be fine.” His tone is flat, as always.
I roll my eyes and flop into the chair beside him.
“Always a pleasure, Ry. I don’t have very long,” I warn him.
“Taryn is meeting me here so we can go out to dinner. Turns out, neither of us can cook.” I grin as I think of our failed attempts over the past couple weeks.
We are definitely “breakfast for dinner” people.
My brother ignores my rambling, tapping another sequence of keys. “The Greeks moved funds again this morning. Four separate accounts, each routed through a chain of at least three dummy corporations, but I’ve tracked them back to the same logistics company.”
“Still laundering through the shipping front?”
“Yes. They’re getting smarter. This latest transfer was almost too clean to catch.” He tilts his head slightly, studying the scrolling code. “Almost.”
A smirk tugs at my mouth. “They don’t know who they’re up against.”
“They don’t know I exist,” he says simply, his blue eyes focused. He highlights a cluster of transactions. “See this? These small, random payments trailing the larger deposits? It’s a tell. It’s how they’re trying to camouflage the illegal transfers.”
I lean forward, squinting at the screen. “Looks like breadcrumbs.”
“Exactly. I can use those to map their entire operation.”
I settle back, crossing my arms. “Alright, genius. I think it’s time we really play ball.”
Finally, he looks up. I’ve caught his interest. In fact, I’d venture to say my little brother looks downright excited.
“I don’t want them to find out what you’re doing. So, let’s start there. Can you plant a leak? Make it look like they have an issue somewhere else? Distract them?”
Ryan cracks his knuckles, his posture shifting as he sits back to think.
I know better than to interrupt this process, so I wait in silence.
It takes about four minutes before he launches into lecture mode.
“I can create a series of fake transactions that look like someone inside their organization is skimming funds. Small amounts, but enough to trip their alarms. That would definitely make them think they’ve got a leak.
When they trace it back, all they’ll find is a ghost hub I can build—a shell company that doesn’t exist beyond the data I’ll plant.
Meanwhile, we can still trace every real account they touch, map their entire structure.
By the time they realize they’re chasing smoke, I’ll know their fronts, their laundering routes, even the accounts tied to their trafficking network. ”
I whistle low. “Jesus, Ryan. You make it sound like child’s play.”
“It’s not,” he says, his tone flat but carrying a thread of pride. “It’ll take a few days, but they’ll never see it coming.”
“You’re terrifying,” I mutter, leaning closer.
He shrugs, as if this is nothing. “They’re the ones moving blood money. I just know how to follow the trail.” He looks at me quickly and then his eyes dart back to the screen. “I like doing this, Liam. I like working with you. And, it’s fun to see how far I can push this.”
“You need to be careful, Ryan. I’m not trying to put you at risk. That’s the entire point of planting a different leak.” I see him tremble at my words, so I know he’s listening to me despite all evidence to the contrary. His fingers have begun moving on the keyboard again.
“You know what Da would say if he heard this?” I ask.
Ryan doesn’t miss a beat. “He’d tell us to stop wasting time on computers and put someone in the ground.” Yeah, Ryan hasn’t been involved in the business, but he’s observant as fuck.
I huff a laugh, but it feels bitter. “Yeah. He doesn’t get it. He hasn’t even asked me what I found. You’d think he’d want to know what I’m doing with all this supposed ‘access.’”
“Then tell him,” Ryan says matter-of-factly.
“What’s the point? He’ll just hand it all over to Bobby as if he can’t be bothered. Or worse—he’ll say it’s not real work. He’s made it clear he doesn’t think I have value beyond getting married.”
Ryan finally looks up, his gaze curious. “Do you want his respect?”
The question cuts straight through me. Shit. Do I want his respect? I’ve been telling myself for years I didn’t give a shit what he thought. However, I never lie to Ryan. Never. I won’t start now. Even if I’ve been lying to myself.
“Of course I do,” I admit, my jaw tight. “But I’m not him. I don’t want to be him.”
“Then stop trying to play his game,” Ryan says as if it’s that simple. “Play yours. Show him you can lead differently.”
Easier said than done. My entire life, I’ve been the one who smooths things over, who makes the clan look good when Da scares the hell out of everyone.
I took that talent with me to St. A’s, charming girls into my bed and teachers into my good grades.
I thought being likable would make me valuable.
But maybe being liked isn’t enough. Maybe I need to prove I can be brutal too. Maybe my father has a point.
The thought unsettles me. I don’t want to become him. But I also can’t let him keep seeing me as the useless golden boy. Not when I know I can take down our enemies without firing a single shot.
“What do we need to do next?” I ask.
Ryan turns toward me, his expression as flat as ever but with that spark of focus that means he’s two steps ahead of everyone.
“We create small, believable discrepancies in their system. Fake transactions that look like an insider skimming funds. They’ll chase the trail, thinking they’re hunting a rat.
But every lead will run back to a ghost hub I built.
While they’re trying to figure out what that shell is, and who created it, I trace their real accounts.
We have access now, but with this added time, I’ll have their entire network mapped, including all the accounts they are hanging off their real hub.
We’d be able to move their money anywhere or target a specific business operation. ”
I let out a low whistle. “Jesus, Ryan. If you do that, we could bankrupt them without lifting a finger.”
“Technically, I’d have to lift all my fingers,” he says, and I grin as he makes a jazz hands motion over his keyboard.
Christ. If we can move their money wherever we want…
the options are limitless. A chill runs down my spine at the very thought of what I can do.
Ryan, God love him, would never do this on his own.
He isn’t wired to harm other people without instruction.
It’s one of the many things I love about him.
Me on the other hand? The Greeks already issued me an invitation to fuck up their world when they messed with my wife.
My eyes flick to one of the accounts on the screen—the one tied to Taryn’s fund. It’s grayed out, disconnected from the rest of the chart. “What about her account?” I ask, my voice sharp.
Ryan follows my gaze. “I’m not touching it. That money is sitting in limbo, exactly where it was when the Greeks burned her. It’s quarantined as far as I’m concerned.”
“Good.” I lean back in the chair, jaw tight. “She’s out of this. I don’t want her name anywhere near what we’re doing now.”
“I’m not using it,” Ryan says, his tone even.
“But I’m watching it. I’ve left some of the other smaller accounts untouched as well.
If the Greeks loop back through hers, I’ll know.
I’ve set up a silent trigger—anything unusual, and I get an alert.
Honestly, Liam, there’s not enough in the account to matter.
” It’s just over a hundred thousand, but he’s right, compared to the rest of this fund, it’s peanuts.
I hesitate, torn between relief and frustration. “I don’t want her thinking I’m messing with her money.”
“You’re not. But if they decide to move it, I’ll know.
That account is still a weak link, Liam.
You should tell her to leave it alone. If she touches it, they’ll know and may go looking deeper.
See if they can hack into wherever she tries to move that money since they no longer have deeper access to her parents’ accounts.
I can see where the Walshes’ bank accounts were recently fortified.
They aren’t feeding Taryn any money from them, so it’s all locked down. Rowan moved quickly.”
“Taryn should have nothing to do with any of this,” I say quietly. “And, her parents shouldn’t be sending her money any more. She’s my wife.”
I have a pretty hefty trust fund that I got access to when I turned twenty-one.
More money will be coming when I go to work for my father full-time.
We have more than enough not only to live, but to live well for the rest of our lives.
“She’s safe. Her old account is irrelevant. There’s nothing to tell her.”
The words taste bitter. I hate that she was ever caught in the middle of this.
She’s not built for the mob’s dirty games, and yet, here she is—my wife, tangled in something she never asked for.
Part of me wants to tell her everything, lay it all out.
But what good would that do? It’s not like she can help us chase down Greek shell companies. And she’s been through enough.