Chapter 18 Ares
Ares
I was three levels deep into the security system’s metadata when my phone buzzed like an angry hornet trapped in my pocket, three times in a row. I pulled it out.
Leo: Check Twitter. NOW.
The second one was from Orion: Don’t react. We handle this together.
The third was a news alert: Olympus Royale Executives Caught in Explicit Elevator Footage—NSFW.
And then it wasn’t one or two but dozens, then hundreds—text messages, emails, and alerts from every social media platform I had joined.
I opened Twitter, and there it was. It trended number one in Las Vegas and number three nationally.
#OlympusRoyaleScandal. The video had been posted from an anonymous account.
It had already garnered three million views.
The comments section was a cesspool I couldn’t read without my blood pressure spiking.
But I watched, because I couldn’t turn away. It was all four of us, in the executive elevator three nights ago, after we’d agreed to try this impossible thing. It was clearly doctored with enhanced lighting and a stabilized image, with every detail visible.
Tashi was surrounded by us. My hands wrapped around her waist. Leo’s mouth on her neck. Orion’s fingers threaded through her hair. The sounds we’d made, the things we’d said—all of it captured and broadcast to millions of strangers who had no right to witness something this private.
Beneath the shock, a cold rage began to build. This was deliberate, cold sabotage. It wasn’t enough to leak the footage. In its natural state, it would be blurry. No, it was enhanced for maximum and damning effect.
I called Orion. He answered on the first ring. “You’ve seen it,” he said.
“Everyone’s seen it.” My voice came out flat and controlled, but underneath, I was boiling and running a thousand questions in my mind. Who had access and the technical skill? Who benefited from destroying us this way?
“Leo’s working to get it taken down,” Orion said. “But it’s been copied and reposted hundreds of times. We can’t contain it.”
“Where’s Tashi?”
“In her suite. Leo’s with her.” A pause. “She’s not taking it well.”
Of course she wasn’t. We were billionaires with resources and lawyers and the kind of fuck-you money that could survive scandal. Tashi, an employee, found her face adorning the year’s most viral sex video.
“I’m coming up,” I said.
“Ares—”
“Now.” I hung up and headed for the elevator, my mind already working through damage control, legal options, and how to identify the perpetrator and make them pay.
The executive floor was eerily quiet when I arrived.
Too quiet. Like the calm before an explosion.
Inside Tashi’s suite, Leo sat next to her on the sofa, his arm around her shoulders as she stared at her phone with a shocked expression.
Orion stood at the window, his posture rigid, hands clasped behind his back like he was reviewing battle plans. They all looked up when I entered.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“Catastrophic,” Orion said simply. “Mitchell just called. He’s not just pulling his investment—he’s threatening legal action for fraud and misrepresentation. He claims that we concealed ‘material information’ regarding management conduct.”
“And the media?” I asked, though I already knew.
“Feeding frenzy.” Leo’s voice was tight. “Every outlet is running with it. The conservative ones are calling us degenerates. The liberal ones are debating whether it’s a consensual polyamorous relationship or workplace coercion. Everyone has an opinion, and none of them favor us.”
I gazed at Tashi. She hadn’t said a word but simply sat there, her phone resting on her lap, her eyes unfocused.
“Tashi,” I said gently. She blinked, like she was coming back from somewhere far away. Her voice sounded raw when she spoke.
“My mother’s friends are calling. Some of my high school classmates are calling. My college roommate sent me a link asking if it’s really me.” Her voice was hollow. “Three million people have watched me have sex. Three million.”
“More now,” Leo said, then winced. “Sorry. Not helpful.”
“Who did this?” Tashi asked, finally looking at me. “Who would do this?”
“Someone with access to the security feeds,” I said. “Someone who knew exactly when and where to find footage they could use against us.”
“Who?” Orion said quietly. “We need to know.”
I pulled up the metadata I’d been analyzing before the world imploded.
“The footage was uploaded via VPN.”
“But why?” Tashi’s voice cracked. “What does anyone gain from…this?”
My phone rang. Unknown number. I answered anyway, putting it on speaker.
“Mr. Kolykos.” Kurt Wilder’s voice filled the room, smug and satisfied. “I assume you’ve seen the footage circulating online.”
“What do you want, Wilder?”
“I want you to understand the severity of your situation. The Gaming Commission takes workplace conduct very seriously. This footage demonstrates a clear violation of professional boundaries, potential coercion of an employee, and—”
“Investigate all you want,” Orion said, his voice cold. “You’ll find that three consenting adults entered into a relationship with another consenting adult. No coercion. No workplace favoritism. No policy violations. Just four people making choices about their personal lives.”
“It’s four adults who work together, and the optics are bad,” Wilder said. “We need to contain this to protect the reputations of our industry. The Gaming Commission hearing is rescheduled to three days from now. I expect all parties to attend.”
“We’ll be there,” Orion said. “With our lawyers.” He made a slashing motion with his hand, and I hung up.
Tashi’s hands were trembling. “I’ll quit and end this. I’m just the slut who slept with three billionaires.”
“No,” said Leo. “That’s what he’ll make it seem like.”
“That is what people are saying!” Tashi stood up, finally showing some fire.
“Have you read the comments? Have you seen what they’re calling me?
Gold digger. Whore. Home-wrecker, even though none of you were married.
I’m being slut-shamed by millions of people who think they know me based on ninety seconds of stolen footage. ”
“Then we tell our story,” I said. “We control the narrative instead of letting them write it for us.”
“What story?” Tashi demanded. “That I fell in love with three brothers, and they decided to pass me around like a time-share condo? That’s not going to play well in the court of public opinion.”
“Maybe not,” Orion said. “But I’d rather fight for the truth than hide from lies.”
“Easy for you to say when you’re billionaires with reputations that can survive scandal,” Tashi shot back. “I’m nobody. I am a marketing director from New York who made the mistake of getting involved with my bosses. This disaster will follow me for the rest of my life.”
The room fell silent. She was right. No matter how this ended, she’d endure public judgment. We had money, power, and lawyers. She had nothing but our promise to stand by her.
“What do you want to do?” Orion asked quietly. “Because we’re not abandoning you. But if you want out, if you want to walk away and try to rebuild somewhere else—we’ll support you.”
“Don’t.” Her voice broke. “Don’t offer me charity or give me an escape route. Because I might take it, and then I’d hate myself for being a coward.”
“That’s not cowardice,” Leo said gently.
“Isn’t it?” Tashi looked at each of us. “Because right now, survival feels like giving up everything I care about to make other people comfortable. And I’m so tired of making myself small to fit into boxes other people designed.”
I glanced at my brothers. Leo’s face was puckered like he’d sucked a lemon, and Orion looked like he wanted to smash someone.
“Then don’t,” Orion said. “Don’t make yourself small. Don’t apologize for loving who you love. Don’t let them shame you into hiding.”
“But the hotel—”
“Will survive or it won’t,” Orion said. “But I’d rather lose Olympus Royale while fighting for you instead of sacrificing the woman I love.”
“Same,” Leo said.
“Agreed,” I added.
Tashi’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re all insane.”
“We’ve established that,” Leo said with a slight smile. “Multiple times.”
“What now?” Tashi asked. “The footage is out there. The hearing is in three days. How do we fight this?”
I stood there for another moment, watching Tashi’s face cycle through emotions—anger, resignation, and fear. Each one twisted something in my chest that I didn’t have time to examine right now.
“I’m going to find who did this,” I said.
“Ares don’t do something—incendiary. We don’t need that now,” Orion said.
“No.” My voice came out harder than I intended. “Whoever leaked that footage violated us. All of us. I’m going to find them, and I’m going to make sure they pay for it.”
I didn’t wait for a response, just turned and walked out, my hands already curling into fists at my sides.
The rage built, cold and calculated. Military training had taught me how to channel anger into action, transforming emotional reactions into tactical precision.
Right now, I needed that discipline because what I really wanted was to punch a hole through a wall. Or through Wilder’s face.
The security operations center was three levels down, accessible only with a key card and a biometric scan. I practically punched the scanner, my palm slapping against it hard enough that the system hesitated before recognizing me.
The door clicked open. Neville was at his station, surrounded by monitors displaying code, network diagrams, and data streams. He looked up when I entered, took one look at my face, and his expression shifted from focused to wary.
“You’ve seen it,” he said.
“Everyone’s seen it.” I crossed the room in three strides, planting my hands on his desk. “I need to know who pulled that footage. Not tomorrow. Not in an hour. Now.”
“Ares—”
“Now, Neville.”
He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m already on it. I have been since the video went live.”
“And?”
“And it’s not simple.” He pulled up a series of windows on his main monitor.
“The file was uploaded from a VPN routing through six different countries. Professional-grade anonymization. Whoever did the upload knew how to cover their tracks.”
“I’m not concerned about their tracks. I care about finding them.
” My voice grew louder, sharper. I could hear it but couldn’t seem to stop it.
“Someone accessed our security feeds, stole private footage, edited it, enhanced it, and broadcast it to the world. That’s not just a data breach—that’s a calculated attack. And I need to know who.”
“I understand—”
“Do you?” I leaned closer, my knuckles white where I gripped the edge of his desk. “Because three million people just watched something that was supposed to be private. Three million strangers saw Tashi—saw all of us—at our most vulnerable. And you’re telling me you can’t trace it?”
“I’m telling you it’s going to take time,” Neville said, his voice calm but firm. “The metadata’s been stripped. The upload used Tor routing. The account that posted it was created two hours before the video went live, using a burner email address registered through a privacy service in Estonia.”
He showed me a series of network logs. “Look at the timing. The file was downloaded at 6:47 a.m. The video was posted at 9:23 a.m. today. That’s a less than three-hour gap. What’s the hurry?”
“Because someone told him to do it.”
“Exactly.” Neville highlighted sections of code. “The upload was done by someone with serious technical chops, with dark web expertise. This is the type of person who knows how to make digital evidence disappear—or in this case, make it appear everywhere at once without leaving traces.”
“Who has those skills?”
Neville pulled up another screen. “Many individuals possess those skills, provided you know where to find them. Hackers for hire. Corporate espionage specialists. Anyone with enough money and motivation.”
“Someone trained in spy craft?”
“Yes.”
The rage was still there, but underneath it now was something colder. Fear. Not for myself or my brothers—we’d survive. No, my fear was for Tashi, who’d been caught in the cross fire of someone else’s vendetta and publicly humiliated because we’d been careless—because we’d trusted the wrong person.
“I want you to conduct a thorough background check on every employee.”
“That will take time.”
“Hire whoever you need to. We need answers within three days.” I met his eyes. “You’re the best digital forensics analyst I’ve ever worked with. If anyone can find this, it’s you.”
Neville nodded slowly. “Ares?” His expression was serious. “If I find what I think I’m going to find—if this goes as deep as I suspect—someone with serious resources has been planning this for months. They’ve invested millions in taking you down. That’s not revenge. That’s business.”
“A hostile takeover,” I said, remembering Orion’s theory.
“More than that. This is scorched earth. They don’t just want to buy Olympus Royale—they want to humiliate you first. Break you publicly. Make you desperate enough to sell for pennies on the dollar.”
“Then we don’t give them the satisfaction.” I headed for the door. “Find me something, Neville. Anything I can use.”
“I will. But Ares?”
I turned back to face him.
“Be careful. Whoever’s behind this conspiracy has already proven they’re willing to violate your privacy, leak your most intimate moments, and destroy your reputations. If they feel cornered—”
“I know,” I said. “They’ll escalate.”
I left the security center, my jaw clenched. Three days until the hearing. Three days to find proof. Three days to identify who had been systematically destroying everything we’d built—and everyone we loved.