The 0% Dad Is A Secret Bitcoin King

CHAPTER 9: TARGET LIST

“Two targets,” Garrett said, his voice flat. “My first target is my wife, Evelyn Dalton.”

Jason picked up the paper and adjusted his reading glasses. “Give me the specifics.”

“Evelyn Ross. Thirty years old! Senior marketing specialist at Apex Media Group. Her office hours are eight-thirty to five, but for the past six months, she’s claimed to work late three or four nights a week.”

Jason’s pen scratched across his notepad. “Does she drive?”

“A white 2021 Toyota Camry. It’s registered under both our names, but I paid it off last year.”

“What about her routine?”

“She drops our son off at school at eight-fifteen every morning. Tuesdays and Thursdays, she claims to go to a gym on 4th Street after work. Verify whether she’s actually going inside or meeting someone in the parking lot.”

Jason nodded, jotting down the details. “Alright. If she’s not working late or at the gym, my people will find out where she really goes. Now, who’s target number two?”

Garrett’s jaw tightened slightly.

“Her lover. Theo Hudson.”

Jason’s pen stopped.

“The Hudson Group’s Theo Hudson?”

“The same one.”

Jason looked up. “You mentioned him earlier. You’re sure he’s the man?”

“I saw him outside my son’s school. He showed up in a Bentley, kissed my wife, and my five-year-old son ran straight to him—”

“He called him Daddy?”

Jason’s hand froze over the notepad.

The room fell silent.

“Did you get the plate?” he asked.

Garrett nodded and pointed to the bottom of the page. “7-X-R-9-0-2. Black Bentley. Tinted windows. He pulled up outside the elementary school on Oak Street at three-fifteen.”

Jason studied the number. “Good. I can run it through my DMV contact and have his registration, insurance records, and home address within twenty minutes.”

“I want more than his address.” Garrett looked him straight in the eye. “I want to know where he goes, who he meets, and where he spends his nights. If he and Evelyn are meeting at hotels, I want the hotel name, room number, and timestamped photos.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “You’re building a paper trail for the divorce.”

“I’m looking for proof,” Garrett corrected him. “When my lawyer files our response, I don't want room for denial or excuses. I want them cornered.”

Jason nodded and opened the laptop on the side table.

“I’ll have two unmarked cars near your wife’s apartment starting at six tomorrow morning. One will follow her when she leaves. The other will stay nearby in case Hudson shows up.”

“Good.”

“And Theo Hudson’s financial background?” Jason asked.

“I want that too.”

“I’ve already started an asset check through a corporate credit contact. Hudson Group looks like a major real estate empire, but public records show three massive construction loans in the last eighteen months. I’ll find out how solid those finances really are.”

Garrett stood and pulled his jacket closed.

“Send every photo, log, and document directly to Julian Blackwood at Blackwood & Partners. Copy my email.”

Jason blinked. “Julian Blackwood? The senior partner?”

“He’s handling my case.”

A quiet chuckle escaped Jason.

“Well, damn. If you’ve got Julian Blackwood handling the legal side and my office gathering the evidence, your wife and her lover have no idea what’s coming.”

Jason extended his hand.

“Go do what you need to do. I’ll have your first evidence file ready soon.”

Garrett shook his hand firmly.

Just as Garrett stepped out of the office into the biting night air, his phone vibrated hard against his leg.

He froze.

Before he could even reach the driver's door, another sharp notification sounded.

Garrett pulled out his phone.

The screen lit up with an unread message from an encrypted address:

Veritas Forensics — Official Analytical Report Attached.

His thumb hovered over the screen as his heart hammered against his ribs.

He had known this was coming. He had seen the resemblance between the boy and Theo Hudson. But knowing it was one thing.

Seeing the official result was another.

His fingers trembled as he opened the document. He skipped the dense genetic tables and scrolled straight to the bold red summary at the bottom.

PROBABILITY OF PATERNITY: 0.00%

CONCLUSION: Subject A (Garrett Dalton) is EXCLUDED as the biological father.

MATCH CONFIRMATION: Subject B (Theo Hudson) matches 99.99% of paternal alleles.

The phone almost slipped from his sweat-slick palm.

Zero percent.

The cold numbers burned into his eyes.

Garrett stared at the screen, his body trembling as a sharp gasp caught in his throat.

Five years.

Five long, grueling years came crashing back all at once.

He remembered the night the boy was born.

He remembered sprinting down the hospital corridor, his hands still covered in dirt from working back-to-back shifts, tears of joy filling his eyes when the nurse placed the little newborn in his arms.

He remembered pressing his lips to the child's forehead and making a silent vow:

I will suffer so you never have to.

And he had suffered.

He had skipped meals to afford imported formula. He had paced the floor at three in the morning with the crying infant against his shoulder, his body exhausted but his heart overflowing with love.

He had bled for that boy.

He had swallowed his pride, taken demeaning jobs, and let Evelyn walk all over him because he believed he was protecting his own flesh and blood.

It was all a lie.

Every sacrifice. Every sleepless night. Every dollar he had earned for that family.

Evelyn hadn't just cheated on him. She had let him spend five years working himself to the bone to raise her lover's child while Theo Hudson watched from his penthouse, knowing Garrett was paying the bills.

A dry, hollow laugh escaped Garrett's throat.

Tears burned behind his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

The naive, loving father who had lived for that boy was gone.

Garrett tightened his grip around the phone until his knuckles turned white.

He wiped his tear-streaked face.

When he looked at the screen again, his hand was completely steady.

The grief was still there.

So was the betrayal.

But the hope was gone.

He saved the document and forwarded the P*F straight to Julian Blackwood.

Below the attachment, he typed a single line:

‘The test is negative. Freeze every joint account and revoke the settlement agreement immediately.’

He hit send.

Garrett tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and turned the key.

The engine roared to life, its headlights cutting through the darkness of the alley.

Tomorrow afternoon, a private jet was waiting to take him to Singapore, where two billion dollars were waiting for him.

When he came back, he wouldn't be the same man who left.

He wouldn't be coming back to save his marriage.

He would be coming back to take back everything they had stolen from him.