Page 29

“It’s going to take a lot more than once on a sofa to get you out of my system,” I call out after her, but she doesn’t respond.

I hope she doesn’t regret it. I sure as hell don’t.

No, this is Caroline. It’s in her nature to try to slow things down so she has time to analyze and consider.

I reach for my jeans and slide them on. If I have my way, we’ll have a fireside dinner with wine, and we’ll take things much more slowly tonight in my bed.

She can tell me more about this job of hers, and I can figure out how to make it flexible so she can join me everywhere.

In the kitchen, my phone lights up as I pass, doing a double-take at the name on the screen.

“Nick?”

“What’s this about your father having Alzheimer’s?”

“He doesn’t have Alzheimer’s.”

“Dementia?”

“Yes.” I rub a hand over my face. I can trust Nick and probably should’ve told him by now, but still… “Who told you?” I look down the hall in the direction Caroline traveled. “Are you working with a firm called Arrow?”

“Mutual contacts.”

“Hmm.”

I lean against the counter. Outside, night has fallen. Pure white coats the nearby surroundings in a pristine, glistening blanket, lit by the lights from the house. How many inches have we gotten?

“It’s looking like I owe you an apology. My tech guys located the hit origin. Spoke to the actual human hired to set it up. Didn’t operate the way you would’ve handled it. You’d have used one of your own. Been smarter about it. I should’ve known you wouldn’t aim to kill me.”

“At the very least, you should’ve known I’d be more efficient. Two hundred and fifty million is nouveau riche territory—all flash, no sophistication. If I wanted you dead, I’d have engineered a more elegant solution.”

He chuckles. But I’m quite serious. Whoever posted a two-hundred-and-fifty-million-dollar bounty might as well have walked outside and taken a blowtorch to a pile of cash. If I’m going to spend that much, I at least want a nice boat out of it. I might be a billionaire, but I have principles.

“Who posted the hit?”

“Tracing a blockchain now.”

So the culprit used crypto for payment. It takes longer to track, but contrary to popular mythology, it can be traced. “Who do you suspect?”

Nick has ideas. As long as I’ve known him, he’s always had a theory.

“An alliance member. I’d decided on your dad. He’d go about it the way this bloke did. But it doesn’t sound like that’s conceivable. After getting it so wrong with you and your dad, I’ll wait a beat for my team to come through with answers.”

“That’s good of you.”

“I hear Caroline’s still with you.”

“Did you plant listening devices in my home?” I pull up the security dashboard on my phone, scanning the latest RF sweep results.

The quantum encryption system I had installed last quarter should make any surveillance attempts futile, but Nick’s always been creative.

“Jensen swept the place last week, but you’ve always enjoyed a challenge. ”

He chuckles.

The fucker.

“Not me, mate. Our mutual acquaintances aren’t so quick to absolve you of misdeeds. Your lady reported it in. Boomeranged to me for verification.”

So Caroline is his source. Should I be annoyed at that?

“Why didn’t you tell me about your father?”

You didn’t ask, is on the tip of my tongue, but instead, I share the truth. “Happened slowly. I was protecting him. And he still has lucid days.” Although, if I’m honest, it’s more lucid moments.

“Hmm.”

The noise that comes across the line is loaded. “What do you mean by that?”

“If he’s got his head on straight some days…”

“You already said you determined neither of us?—”

“Right. Right. Still, someone’s out there. Alliance member or not, these are black times. If I were you, I’d keep her there.”

“From your lips to god’s ear.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Hey, cock twit, time to think with your bigger brain. My warning has nothing to do with the fact that you never got over your ex. If Armageddon breaks, she’s in one of the safest places she can be.”

“Is it that bad?” In my mind, it’s all posturing. No one’s really going to do something that would bring about catastrophe. All of my sources agree. Those in power have too much vested in the market.

“Someone’s casting a lot of shade. Tensions between governments are rising. I’d say we’re about two incidents away from escalation to a world war.”

I pull up the latest satellite telemetry on my phone. Three of our birds over the Pacific reported anomalous signals last week. Could be nothing—solar flares mess with the equipment all the time—but coincidences make me uneasy. Especially when they align with Nick’s networks picking up chatter.

“And you believe it's someone from the alliance?”

The unofficial consortium of tech billionaires and industry titans that meets quarterly in places like Davos and Singapore didn’t believe we’re in any more danger than normal, and also believed what we’re seeing is more or less business as usual.

But I’ve had moments where my concerns have risen exponentially.

I turn to rational minds to calm my nerves.

Reality is, it’s hard to trust anyone when the global telecommunications infrastructure is a chess piece, as much as I want to trust that all is good.

“My sources claim it’s not Russia,” Nick says.

“How good are your sources?”

“That’s always the question, isn’t it?”