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

Growth!

[Initial trace complete. Found interesting anomaly. Coins moved through wallet registered to A.C. Same initials as Alina Carver. Could be coincidence. Investigating further.]

Mark's response came immediately: [Not a coincidence. What else?]

'Eager. Suspicious of Alina already. This is going to be easier than I thought.'

Neo typed: [Need more time to confirm. But pattern suggests someone with inside access to Noam's accounts. Someone close to him.]

Mark: [His wife.]

[Possibly. I'll have proof within 48 hours. Additional f*e applies.]

Mark: [Just get me proof.]

'Oh, I'll get you proof. Fake proof. But you'll believe it because you want to believe it.'

Neo pulled up his fake evidence. Transaction histories showing Alina accessing crypto wallets weeks before Noam's death. IP addresses traced to her phone. Email exchanges with anonymous buyers.

All fabricated. All convincing.

He'd deliver it to Mark in two days. Watch him confront Alina. Watch the family tear itself apart.

'And while they're busy destroying each other, I'll be—'

His phone buzzed. The real one.

Alert from the real estate agent.

"Offer accepted. Meridian Tower is yours. Congrats!"

Neo stared at the message.

Forty-two million dollars.

For a building.

A month ago, he'd been worth nothing. Been considered useless.

Now he owned a fucking skyscraper.

'Noam Ash could never. But Neo Ames?'

Neo Ames was just getting started.

–––––––––––

The next forty-eight hours were chaos.

Adam hired three more engineers. Ames Digital was now a legitimate operation. Profitable. Growing. Attracting attention from investors and competitors alike.

Neo fed breadcrumbs to Lyra. She published a second article. More pointed. More accusatory. The comments section exploded.

The Carvers released a statement through their lawyer. [Ms. Chen's articles are baseless conspiracy theories designed to profit from our tragedy. We are exploring legal action.]

Empty threats. But it showed they were rattled.

Mark received Neo's fake evidence. Confronted Alina at dinner. Neo watched the whole thing through his cameras.

"You knew," Mark said. Voice shaking. "You knew about the crypto. You took it."

Alina looked genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb. I have proof. Transaction records. Your IP address. You accessed his accounts before he died."

"That's insane. I didn't—"

"Then explain this!" Mark shoved his laptop across the table. Showed her the fabricated evidence.

Alina's face went white. "This isn't—I didn't do this."

"Then who did?"

"I don't know! But it wasn't me!"

Cassandra and Douglas watched in silence. The family dinner had turned into an interrogation.

"Maybe—" Cassandra started, then stopped. Looked at Alina. Really looked at her. "Maybe she did. Maybe she planned this from the beginning."

"Mother, I would never—"

"You married him for his money," Douglas said quietly. "Everyone knew it. What if you found out about the crypto and decided—"

"Decided what? To kill him? Are you hearing yourselves?"

But doubt had been planted. Neo could see it in their faces.

'Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.'

–––––––––––

The Meridian Tower gleamed in morning light.

Neo stood in the lobby, coffee in hand, watching movers haul equipment through glass doors. The building was officially his—well, Phoenix Holdings' technically, but same thing.

Thirty-two floors of steel and glass. Prime real estate. The kind of building that made people look twice.

Ames Digital occupied the top five floors now. Adam had overseen the buildout. Modern. Clean. Expensive-looking without being gaudy.

'Perfect.'

Neo took the elevator to the twenty-eighth floor. His private office. The one Adam didn't know about. The one registered under yet another shell company.

From here, he could watch everything.

He pulled up his monitors. Trading accounts. Surveillance feeds. Bank balances.

Bytegold had hit $240 that morning. His 120,012 coins were now worth $28,802,880.

But that wasn't the impressive number.

The impressive number was his total net worth.

Between the Bytegold holdings, the profits from his other trades sitting in stablecoins, the building's equity, and Ames Digital's legitimate revenue—

$97,342,156.

Almost a hundred million.

In five weeks.

Neo leaned back. Let that sink in.

'Five weeks ago, I was dead. Literally burning in a car crash. Now—'

Now he was richer than the Carvers. Richer than anyone who'd ever called him useless.

His phone buzzed. Adam.

"Sir, the CFO wants to discuss the Q2 projections. Can you join?"

"No. You handle it. That's why I hired you."

"Of course. Also—there's a reporter asking for an interview. About the company's rapid growth."

Neo's fingers paused on the keyboard. "Reporter?"

"Lyra Chen. From that independent outlet. She's been covering—"

"I know who she is." Neo's mind raced. "What does she want?"

"An interview with the founder. With you."

'Shit. She's sniffing around Ames Digital now. Of course she is. The timing's too convenient. Company explodes right after Noam dies.'

"Tell her you'll do it," Neo said. "Schedule it for this week."

"Sir, are you sure—"

"Yes. And Adam? Be yourself. Answer honestly. You're the CEO. You built this. Understand?"

A pause. "I—yes, sir. Of course."

Neo hung up.

'This could be a problem. Or—'

Or it could be useful. Let Lyra interview Adam. Let her see a confident CEO running a legitimate company. Nothing suspicious. Nothing connecting to Noam Ash.

'Just need to make sure Adam doesn't say anything stupid.'

–––––––––––

The Carver estate was buzzing.

Neo watched through his cameras as Douglas stormed into Mark's room, tablet in hand.

"Have you seen this?" Douglas shoved the screen at Mark.

Mark looked up from his laptop. "Seen what?"