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As tempting as it was to head out onto the deck and watch the stars, I needed to keep going. My eyes were red and sore, dry from staring at the computer screen for hours on end. My limbs were as heavy as my eyelids, but I was close. I’d sifted through months of data, ruling out any theft from the main operational accounts. I’d found countless transactions from the investment funds though. The accounts in which clients’ funds were deposited and reinvested in share portfolios, government bonds, direct property, and other long-term assets as well as the shorter, higher risk money earners were like sieves, losing more than was put into them.
The investments had failed, but it had nothing to do with the quality of those chosen. So much money had been siphoned out that I was surprised the investment fund hadn’t gone under well before it did. Whoever had stolen the money was good. They hid their tracks well. The transactions in and out precisely matched amounts supposedly being paid into investments or refunded, and they were always consistent—once an account was used for the first transaction, every dollar from that point onwards was paid to the same account. The investments that were supposedly chosen reflected those in Mum’s diaries—to anyone looking at the accounts at a surface level, the fund would have had a diverse range of assets that should have set them up for some degree of stability, if not phenomenal returns during what was otherwise a strongly deteriorating market.
Whoever it was also had high-level access—both to the accounting systems and the bank account—to pull off such a sophisticated, ongoing theft. Even if the liquidator hadn’t been a plant, I doubted that the deception would have beendiscovered unless the full audit was completed and each and every bank account checked.
There was no doubt in my mind that Mum had trusted whoever had been responsible. It had to have been someone like her investment manager or head accountant. Regardless, the knowledge that they’d not only breached her trust but caused her death was a bitter pill to swallow.
But they’d get their comeuppance. My face would be the last thing they saw as I slit their throat and watched the life drain from their sorry existence. I’d be there like the fucking grim reaper escorting them to the afterlife for their betrayal, and I’d enjoy every second of it.
I would find them and make them pay.
But first I had a list of bank account owners to find. Their heads would roll next.
It was a task easier said than done though. I could easily check whether the accounts were still valid by attempting to transfer money to them. But masking my account details so I didn’t end up with a giant flashing neon sign pointed at my skull would be harder. Finding out who owned the account was a whole step above that level of difficulty.
I needed access to the banks. But hacking their systems wasn’t exactly a five-minute job, and I needed answers sooner than would be afforded by me hacking into every financial institution that received a transfer.
How though?
I rubbed my eyes, a yawn tearing free from me. The boys had long since fallen asleep, and I was teetering on the edge of hysteria—staring at the screen, lines of numbers laughing back at me, was sending me nuts. I wanted to sink into sleep, but I had to push through.
Gentle hands shook me, and I surfaced from my dreams with a gasp. They’d been dark and depraved, and not in the good way where I got off. No, these were violent and bloodthirsty, my hands dripping with blood.
“It’s okay, Zee. It’s just me. Come on, let’s get you into bed.”
“No, I’m not done yet,” I mumbled, sinking back into the fight, launching myself at the faceless person I instinctively wanted to end.
Strong arms lifted me, and I fought the hold until he shushed me. I inhaled, getting ready to scream, but instead of thrashing like I’d been about to, Tristan’s woodsy spice filled my senses. I burrowed into his chest like I wanted to crawl inside him.
Pillowy softness surrounded me, the sheets cool under me. I reached out and connected with a warm body, instinctively knowing I was safe with him. I shuffled forward, resting my head on firm muscle, before the bed dipped, and a hard, warm body slipped in behind me. I drifted, cocooned in safety and love.
I startled, my eyes springing open as the dappled sunlight reflected off the surface of the water danced on my ceiling. “That’s it!” I tried to pull myself up and out from under the nest of bodies surrounding me.
“Too early, go back to sleep,” Ezra mumbled from underneath me. My arm and leg were thrown over him, pinning him to the bed. I hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, and our skin had stuck together from the heat of our bodies.
“Have to get up.” I struggled, and Tristan pulled back, rolling over and giving me some space. Why hadn’t I thought of it earlier? The solution was staring at me the whole time.
It was almost too easy. A few months ago, I’d hacked into a company that acted as an intermediary between businesses in the US and their banks. The system was designed to ping any transaction that dealt with terrorist or other restricted organizations. I’d tinkered with it, adding to their blocked list so that the “charities” which preached hatred and violence against trans kids, fought against women who wanted abortions, and ones that supported underage marriage couldn’t receive any funds from their followers.
It wasn’t easy, but I’d hacked in through a backdoor entry, piggybacking onto already established data lines so I didn’t have to break through all their firewalls. Hopefully, the neat little plug I’d created to seal my entry point was still there. If so, all I had to do was pop the cork.
But before I could move, Ezra lifted my knee, trapping his erection under my leg. “You really want to get up?”
“I’m thinking I could be persuaded to stay,” I murmured, my voice still husky with sleep. My tee had ridden up, the hem up around my waist, and Ezra took full advantage, sliding his hand up to cup my arse and tease my folds until they were slick.
My breath shuddered out on a moan, sensation rippling through me as my body awoke to the delicious tease he was dishing out. Tristan shifted behind me, rolling over and sliding his hand up my belly to rest it just below my breast. Playful nips began at my shoulder and worked their way up my throat to that spot behind my ear that made me melt. He was a teasing bugger, that beautiful fat cock thickening and nestling between my cheeks until I was writhing against it.
“Please,” I begged, and Tristan hummed.
“Love it when you talk sexy, Zali. Your breathless pleas until I jam my cock into whatever hole I want are intoxicating.”
“Want you both.”
“What about me?” Flynn asked from behind Ezra, propping himself up until he was lying on top of the man and angling his mouth for my nipple.
Tristan helped him out, holding me steady as I rocked my hips, begging Ezra to finger-fuck me.
Flynn’s lips touched my skin, and I cried out, arching into his touch.
