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I glance up briefly, catching Alessio's intense gaze. For a moment I'm jarred back to reality—the weight of what we're doing, the lives at stake, the danger surrounding us. But I can't afford to dwell on that now. I need to stay in this flow state where my skills work best.
"One down," I say, turning back to the screen. "Three more to go."
My fingers return to the keyboard, already working on the next security measure—a more complex authentication that requires both a password and a biometric override. Raymond's paranoia created multiple failsafes but his arrogance left exploitable weaknesses.
I lose myself again in the code, in the digital hunt. The world outside the screen ceases to exist as I chase the next solution, following digital breadcrumbs through encryption walls and security protocols.
"How much time do you need?" he asks, his voice cutting through my concentration.
I look up from the screen, a laugh escaping before I can stop it. Not the polite laugh I perfected for society events, but something raw and bitter that scrapes my throat on the way out.
"Days," I say, watching his expression harden. "If it was hours, don't you think I would've done it before the wedding? Then I wouldn't be locked in a room with a man who's looking for the first opportunity to kill me."
His jaw tightens, that muscle in his cheek jumping. "If I wanted you dead?—"
"I know, I know. I'd never have woken up." I wave my hand dismissively, turning back to the screen. "You've made that abundantly clear."
The truth is, I need uninterrupted time with this drive. Raymond's security system has layers upon layers of encryption, each requiring different techniques to bypass. The outer shell was simple enough to crack in his study—just enough to glimpse the horror inside—but the complete contents remain locked behind walls of code and authentication.
"Days," Alessio repeats, his thumb moving to his bottom lip, eyes never leaving my face. "That's not acceptable."
"Well, the crypto wallet doesn't care what's acceptable to you." I gesture at the screen where another authentication window has appeared. "This isn't like breaking into someone's Facebook account. It's military-grade security protecting hundreds of millions in untraceable currency and evidence of crimes that would put half the city's elite in prison."
I can see the calculation happening behind his dark eyes, weighing the urgency against the reality of what I'm telling him. The Ferretti timeline versus the immovable wall of Raymond's security measures.
"Every shortcut I take increases the risk of triggering failsafes," I add. "If that happens everything on this drive self-destructs. All that evidence—gone. Is that what you want?"
Alessio's brow furrows as he studies the screen over my shoulder.
"I don't understand," he says finally, his voice rough near my ear. "How can both money and files be on the same device? Money is money. Files are files."
I pause my typing and turn slightly to face him, surprised by the question. His expression is deadly serious, those unfathomable eyes fixed on me with genuine confusion. It's easy to forget that not everyone lives in the digital world I inhabit.
"It's not physical money," I explain, keeping my voice neutral. "Cryptocurrency exists as digital code. Think of it like... a bank account number and password but instead of connecting to a bank, it connects to a digital wallet that exists on a blockchain."
His eyes narrow slightly. "Blockchain?"
"A digital ledger," I simplify. "Imagine a book where every transaction is recorded but instead of one person keeping the book, thousands of computers all have copies. That makes it nearly impossible to fake."
I point to the screen where the authentication window waits. "This USB drive contains the keys—essentially the passwords—to access Raymond's crypto wallets. Those wallets hold over four hundred million dollars in Bitcoin and other currencies."
Alessio's expression shifts from confusion to calculation. " Yes I remember the four hundred million you told me it contains. Digital money that can't be traced."
"Exactly. Perfect for illegal operations like organ trafficking. No paper trail, no bank asking questions." I turn back to the screen. "But the drive also contains evidence files— maybe photos, transaction records, victim information. I broke thesystem partially. I only had time to access the surface level. There's much more buried deeper."
"Keep going," he orders, his tone hardening again. "How long until you reach the next level?"
I turn back to the keyboard, fingers already moving. "If you stop interrupting me? Maybe three hours for this layer. The next will be even harder."
The authentication window fills with my code as I work, diving back into the digital puzzle before me. Beside me, I feel Alessio's presence like a physical weight, watching every move I make.
The technical shit she's spouting might as well be a foreign language but I understand the value of what she's doing.
But for a moment my focus shifts from the screen to her. The way she leans forward, completely absorbed in her work. The curve of her spine, the way her hair falls forward when she concentrates. She's tucked her legs beneath her on the bed and the position pulls her clothes tight across her ass.
Merda. That ass.
My mouth goes dry as I take in the full shape of her. All soft curves where it matters—hips made for a man's hands to grip, tits that would fill my palms perfectly. The kind of body thatmakes a man think filthy thoughts in the middle of a fucking operation.