The Useless Son-in-law Who Became A Crypto Genius

Casting The Net (II)

At the Carver estate, Douglas slammed his phone down.

"Well?" Cassandra looked up from her magazine. "What did she say?"

"Didn't matter what she said. I made it clear we won't tolerate these conspiracy theories."

"You think that'll shut her up?"

Douglas poured himself a whiskey. Noon on a Tuesday, but whatever. "If it doesn't, the lawyers will."

Mark walked in. Laptop under his arm. Circles under his eyes darker than usual.

"Who are we suing?"

"That reporter. The Chen woman. She published an article implying we had something to do with Noam's death."

Mark's expression flickered. Something Cassandra couldn't quite read.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. Just—" Mark set his laptop down. "Maybe threatening her wasn't the smartest move."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means journalists don't back down when threatened. They dig deeper."

Douglas waved a dismissive hand. "She's a nobody writing for a nobody site. It'll blow over."

But Mark didn't look convinced. He pulled up the article on his laptop. Read through it. His jaw tightened.

'She knows about the insurance policy. About the crypto movements. She's been digging. Actually digging.'

"We should be careful," he said quietly.

"Careful about what?" Cassandra's voice had an edge. "We didn't do anything wrong. Noam died in a robbery. The police confirmed it."

"I know. I'm just saying—if she keeps digging, if she finds—"

He stopped himself.

"Finds what?" Douglas's eyes narrowed.

"Nothing. Just that grief makes people paranoid. And paranoid people make mistakes."

But that's not what he'd been about to say. And from Cassandra's expression, she knew it.

Neo watched the whole thing through his surveillance system. Recorded every word.

Douglas's threatening phone call to Lyra. Mark's warning about digging deeper. The tension crackling between them.

'Perfect. She's already getting under their skin.'

He pulled up Lyra's article. Read through it carefully.

'Not bad. Not bad at all. She's smart. Careful. Asking the right questions without making accusations she can't prove.'

The comments section was already filling up. Most people dismissed it as conspiracy theory. But some—some were starting to wonder.

[Why WAS the insurance increased?]

[That crash site does look suspicious.]

[Follow the money. Always follow the money.]

Neo leaned back in his chair. Laced his fingers behind his head.

'This is good. The seed of doubt is planted. Now I just need to water it.'

He pulled up Lyra's contact info again. Drafted an email.

"Ms. Chen. Read your article. Interesting questions. I may have information that could help your investigation. Will be in touch."

He deleted it without sending.

'Not yet. Too soon. Let the Carvers stew in their paranoia first. Let them make mistakes. Then I'll make contact.'

His phone buzzed. Alert from his trading account.

Bytegold had hit $230.

His 120,012 coins were now worth $27,602,760.

Twenty-seven million.

But more importantly—his accessible liquid funds had just crossed a major threshold. With the profits from SilverChain, TerraCoin, and his leverage plays, his immediately available cash was now sitting at $1,847,000.

Over a million dollars he could spend without touching his main holdings.

'Time for the next phase.'

Neo pulled up a recruitment site. The kind executives used when they needed to hire someone quietly. Discretely.

He needed a CEO. A face for his company. Someone charismatic enough to be believable but desperate enough not to ask too many questions.

'Ames Digital. Sounds legit. Sounds tech-forward. Perfect.'

He started drafting the job posting.

[Seeking experienced executive to serve as CEO of emerging tech startup. Cryptocurrency and blockchain focus. Significant equity stake. Immediate start.]

Compensation: $250,000 base. Plus equity. Plus bonuses.

Enough money to attract talent. Enough to buy loyalty.

He hit post.

Within an hour, applications started rolling in.

Neo screened them ruthlessly. Anyone with too much success—rejected. They'd ask too many questions.

Anyone with recent employment—rejected. Too risky they'd bring baggage.

He was looking for someone specific. Someone hungry. Someone who'd been knocked down and wanted to climb back up.

Someone like him.

Except they'd be his puppet.

He found three promising candidates by evening.

David Dane. Former VP at a failed startup. Been unemployed for eight months. Desperate.

Rachel Morrison. Ex-executive at a company that went under due to scandal. Not her scandal, but her reputation took the hit anyway. Bitter.

And Adam Stone. Tried to start his own company. Failed spectacularly. Buried in debt.

All three had the skills. All three had the desperation.

Neo scheduled video interviews. Used a voice modulator. Kept his camera off.

"Technical difficulties."

David was too eager. Practically begging for the job. Neo marked him as backup.

Rachel was sharp. Asked good questions. But she also seemed like she'd dig into the company structure eventually. Too risky.

Adam though.

Adam was perfect.

Mid-forties. Receding hairline he was clearly self-conscious about—kept trying to smooth it back. Nice suit that was slightly too big, like he'd lost weight from stress.

"I appreciate the opportunity," Adam said, voice careful. "Can you tell me more about the company structure?"

"Privately held. Silent investors who prefer to remain anonymous. Standard in crypto."

"And my role would be?"

"Public face. Handle operations, hiring, business development. You'd have significant autonomy."

Adam's eyes brightened slightly. "Equity stake?"

"Five percent. With vesting schedule. Hit our targets, and you could be looking at serious money."

"What targets?"

"I'll provide specific goals. But broadly—establish market presence, build user base, position for Series A funding within 18 months."

Adam nodded slowly. "And the investors—they'll be hands-off?"

"Quarterly reports. Monthly check-ins. But day-to-day? That's your domain."

"Can I ask—why me? I'm sure you have candidates with more... recent success."

Neo let the silence hang for a moment. Then: "Because I need someone who's hungry. Someone who understands what it's like to fail and wants to prove everyone wrong. Someone who'll fight for this."

Adam's jaw tightened. Something flickered in his eyes.

"I can do that."

"I know. That's why you're my first choice."

They talked for another thirty minutes. Compensation, start date, initial priorities. Neo kept it vague enough to maintain control but specific enough that Adam felt involved.

By the end, Adam was sold.

"When do I start?"

"Next Monday. Office space is being finalized. I'll send details."

"And the contract?"

"Legal will send it over tomorrow. Standard terms. Nothing unusual."

Except for the clauses that gave Neo complete override authority. And the NDA that would financially destroy Adam if he talked about the ownership structure.

But Adam wouldn't read that closely. He was too desperate. Too excited.

"Thank you," Adam said. "You won't regret this."

"I know."

The call ended.

Neo leaned back. Stretched. His spine cracked.

'CEO: acquired. Company: forming. Pieces falling into place.'

He pulled up incorporation documents. Filed them online. Delaware LLC. Standard structure. Anonymous ownership hidden behind layers of shell companies.

Ames Digital officially existed.

His phone buzzed. The encrypted app. The thugs.

Vincent: [We're in. Send details.]

Neo smiled.

'Perfect timing.'