Revenge is sweetest with $2 billion in Bitcoin

Chapter five

Christopher turned and walked toward the stairs. Behind him, Mary remained frozen on the sofa. She had thought the divorce was already in her hands. Now it had suddenly slipped away.

Mary stood frozen on the sofa for a few seconds after Christopher walked past her. She hadn’t seen him act this confident and firm in a long time, and it caught her off guard.

“Christopher… what exactly are you trying to do?” she asked, her voice tighter than she intended.

He paused at the foot of the stairs and glanced back at her. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Mary’s expression hardened. “You’ve been acting strange since yesterday. If this is another one of your moods, don’t take it out on us. You’ve already neglected his development enough over the years. The least you can do is not make things worse now.”

The boy, still standing near the sofa, stared at him with wide, confused eyes. “Where are you going?”

Christopher gave him only a brief, dismissive look. “Go play. This doesn’t concern you.”

Without another word he continued up the stairs, entered the second bedroom, and shut the door firmly behind him.

The moment the lock clicked, Christopher leaned back against the door.

‘Two hundred and twenty thousand dollars…’ he thought bitterly. ‘Private piano lessons, swimming, language tutors, weekend enrichment programs, specialized early-development courses. All of it for him. And they still had the nerve to say I neglected his development.’

A cold smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

‘Maybe it’s time to reverse the game. I’ll find a way to run up an enormous expense in his name… and make certain Mary is the one who has to pay every cent of it.’

Outside the closed door, Mary’s composure cracked. She glanced toward the stairs once more, then quickly walked into the living room and sat on the edge of the sofa.

With slightly trembling fingers she unlocked her phone and opened the private chat she had kept hidden for months.

[Mary: Something’s wrong.]

[Mary: Christopher suddenly refused the divorce.]

[Mary: He’s acting completely different. Bold. Like he knows something.]

[Mary: Did he find out about us?]

The reply took almost a full minute.

[Daniel: How would I know?]

[Daniel: You’re the one living with him.]

Mary’s jaw tightened. She typed faster.

[Mary: Don’t take that tone with me.]

[Mary: You walked out on me and the child years ago.]

[Mary: I married him because I had no choice.]

[Mary: Now that you’re finally free again, you’re going to abandon us a second time?]

[Daniel: I told you I’m handling my own matters.]

[Daniel: Don’t drag me into every little problem you have at home.]

[Mary: Little problem?]

[Mary: He’s refusing the divorce.]

[Mary: If he digs deeper—]

[Daniel: Then deal with it.]

[Daniel: I don’t have time for this right now.]

Mary’s face flushed with anger. She stared at the screen, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

[Mary: So that’s it?]

[Mary: After everything, you’re just going to brush me off again?]

[Daniel: Call me when you actually have something useful to say.]

The chat went silent. No more typing indicators. No reply.

Mary locked the phone and set it face-down on the coffee table, her chest rising and falling quickly.

‘Damn him… after everything, this is how he treats me?’

She wanted to scream, but the house was too quiet. After a long moment she forced herself to lean back against the sofa, jaw tight with suppressed fury.

Inside the second bedroom, Christopher sat on the edge of the bed, completely unaware of the conversation that had just taken place on the other side of the door. His own phone vibrated against the nightstand. A message from Hale & Associates.

He picked it up and opened it.

[Hale & Associates: Got the preliminary info on that guy.]

[Name’s Daniel Crowe. Runs a small logistics company. Was married for about eight years, divorced three months ago. Lives over in Westbridge.]

[Still working on his financials and any contact he’s had with your wife. Should have a fuller report for you in the next day or two.

Christopher read the message twice. Then a third time.]

A cold, humorless smile touched his lips.

So it was true. Mary had never loved him. She had married him only because Daniel Crowe had abandoned her and the child. And the sudden push for divorce had never been about his debts or their failed marriage.... it was simply so she could return to the man who had left her in the first place.

He locked the phone, set it back on the nightstand, and lay down. For the first time in a long while, he slept soundly.

---

The next morning Christopher got up early, showered, and dressed. He left the house quietly so he wouldn’t wake anyone, got into his car, and sent a short message to Ryan:

[Christopher: You free this morning? Need to talk.]

Ryan replied almost immediately: “Yeah. Come to the station.”

Christopher drove straight to the central police station, pulled into the parking lot, took the stairs two at a time, and pushed open the door to the third-floor office without knocking.

Ryan looked up from a stack of paperwork, raised an eyebrow, then pointed at the chair across from him.

“You look like hell. Sit.”

Christopher dropped into the chair and rubbed his face with both hands. The two of them had been friends long enough that silence never felt awkward.

Ryan finished the last line on his report, closed the folder, and leaned back.

Three years earlier Ryan had led the multi-agency operation that took down the Red Harbor Syndicate, a violent trafficking and extortion network responsible for at least eleven confirmed murders and the forced disappearance of dozens more.

The case had spanned two years, cost the lives of two undercover officers, and ended with the entire leadership either dead or serving life sentences.

That success had pushed Ryan straight to Senior Inspector with the authority he now had.

“Talk,” he said. Christopher stared at the floor for a few seconds. He had practiced the words on the drive over. Now they felt stuck in his throat.

“I’m ending the marriage,” he said finally. “But it’s not because of the debts this time.”

Ryan’s expression shifted slightly as he waited. Christopher took a breath. “The boy isn’t mine. I ran a paternity test. Result came back excluded yesterday.”

The room went quiet. Ryan didn’t move for a long moment. Then he stood, walked over to the small fridge in the corner, pulled out two bottles of beer, and set one in front of Christopher before sitting back down.

“Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath. “Does she know you know?”

“Not yet.”

Ryan leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “Alright. Talk me through it. What are you planning to do?”