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

String Along

Three weeks into operations, Ames Digital was starting to look real.

Neo watched through the security feed as Adam conducted another interview. Some hotshot engineer from a failed startup, portfolio on his laptop, talking about algorithmic trading like he'd invented it.

Adam nodded along. Asked decent questions. Nothing that would raise flags.

'Good. He's learning.'

The office had filled out. Six employees now. Two engineers, a designer, a marketing specialist, and a CFO Adam had poached from some fintech company.

All of them thought they were building the next big thing in crypto trading.

None of them knew their boss was just a figurehead. A puppet with Neo's hand so far up his ass he could taste it.

Neo took a sip of cold coffee. Grimaced. When had he made this? Yesterday?

'Doesn't matter. Focus.'

He pulled up the company financials. The trading algorithms were actually working—legitimately working. Making small profits off market inefficiencies. High-frequency stuff that added up.

Nothing huge. But enough to look legit. Enough to build a reputation.

'Phase one: establish credibility. Make Ames Digital look like a real player.'

His other monitor showed a different kind of business.

Real estate listings. Commercial buildings in the financial district.

Neo had been looking for weeks. Something big. Something visible. Something that screamed success.

He found it.

The Meridian Tower. Thirty-two floors. Prime location. The previous owner had gone bankrupt during some scandal Neo barely remembered from his first life.

Listed at $47 million.

Neo could afford it. Conveniently. But—

'Too visible. Too soon. Need to be smarter.'

He pulled up the listing details. Studied the ownership structure. The bankruptcy proceedings.

'Vulture investors circling. Bidding war incoming. But if I time it right—'

His fingers flew across the keyboard. Setting up another shell company. Another layer of anonymity.

Phoenix Real Estate Holdings LLC.

Owned by a trust. Managed by a law firm. That specialized in—yeah, you get it.

Neo drafted an offer. $42 million. Cash. Sixty-day close.

Below market value. But cash was king. Especially to bankrupt sellers desperate for liquidity.

He hit send.

Then leaned back, cracking his knuckles.

'Now we wait.'

–––––––––––

At the Carver estate, Mark was losing his mind.

Neo watched him pace his room. Phone pressed to his ear. Voice strained.

"—telling you, the twelve coins aren't just gone. Someone moved them deliberately. Someone who knew what they were doing."

The person on the other end said something Neo couldn't hear.

Mark's face went red. "I don't care what it costs! I need to know who took them!"

More muffled response.

"Fine. Yes. Whatever you need. Just find them."

He hung up. Threw his phone on the bed.

Neo zoomed in. Mark's expression was—damn. Desperate. Paranoid. Borderline manic.

'Good. Keep spiraling. Keep making mistakes.'

Mark opened his laptop. Started typing. Neo watched through the hacked webcam.

A crypto forum. Mark posting under a burner account.

"Looking for expert blockchain analyst. Twelve Bytegold coins traced. Serious inquiries only."

'Oh, Mark. You handsome idiot.'

Neo screenshot the post. Saved it. Then pulled up a different burner account—one he'd created weeks ago for exactly this purpose.

He typed a response.

"I specialize in complex blockchain forensics. Can trace anything. What's the job?"

Posted.

Then he sat back and waited.

–––––––––––

Lyra's apartment,

She'd been at this for hours. Days, really. Digging through financial records. Public databases. Court filings. Anything she could access without breaking laws.

The anonymous tips kept coming. Always vague. Always just enough to point her in a direction.

Her latest email:

[Check Mark Carver's business dealings in Japan. Specifically his consulting work for crypto startups. The money flows are interesting.]

No signature. Same encrypted email service.

Lyra pulled up everything she could find on Mark.

LinkedIn showed he'd worked in Tokyo for three years. Consulting for blockchain companies.

'Okay. So what?'

She dug deeper. Found company registrations. Partnership agreements. All public record in Japan if you knew where to look.

And there—

'Wait. What the hell?'

Mark had been a partner in a crypto exchange that collapsed. Investors lost millions. Mark had walked away clean, but—

The timing.

It collapsed three months before he moved back to the States.

Three months before Noam's life insurance was increased.

Lyra's pen tapped against her teeth. Faster now.

'He needed money. Needed it badly. And suddenly his useless brother-in-law has a massive life insurance policy and cryptocurrency holdings.'

Her chest did something complicated. Excitement mixed with dread.

'This isn't just insurance fraud. This is—'

Her phone rang. Unknown number.

She hesitated. Then answered.

"Hello?"

Heavy breathing. Then a click.

The line went dead.

Lyra stared at her phone. Her hand trembled slightly.

'Second time this week. Someone's watching. Someone knows I'm digging.'

She should've been scared.

Instead, she felt validated.

'They're panicking. Which means I'm close.'

She pulled up a new document. Started organizing everything she had. The insurance increase. The crypto transactions. Mark's failed business in Japan. The convenient timing of Noam's death.

All of it pointed to one conclusion.

Mark Carver was the key.

–––––––––––

Neo's burner phone buzzed.

Mark had responded.

[Need to trace 12 Bytegold coins that vanished three weeks ago. Multiple wallets. Complex obfuscation. Can you handle it?]

Neo typed back: [Yes. But this isn't cheap. $500 upfront. Another $500 on completion.]

A pause. Then: [That's half the value of what's missing.]

[You get what you pay for. I'm the best. And if someone stole from you, they'll try again. Better to plug the leak now.]

Another pause. Longer this time.

Finally: [Fine. How do I pay?]

'Hook, line, and sinker.'

Neo sent payment instructions. Crypto, obviously. Untraceable.

'Now I just need to string him along long enough to—'

Wait.

A better idea was forming.

What if instead of just taking Mark's money and delivering nothing—what if Neo actually helped him? Led him on a wild goose chase that implicated someone else?

'Create a fake trail. Make it look like someone specific took the coins. Someone Mark already suspects or fears.'

But who?

Neo tapped his fingers against the desk. Thinking.

'Can't be me. Can't be anyone traceable to me. Needs to be—'

His eyes landed on the security feed. On Alina.

'Her.'

Make it look like Alina took the coins. Like she knew about them all along. Like she'd been planning to kill Noam and take everything.

'Mark already doesn't trust her. I've seen it in his body language. The way he watches her. If I can plant evidence that she betrayed the whole family—'

They'd turn on each other.

Beautiful.

Neo pulled up his forensics tools. Started building a fake trail. Transaction histories that looked legitimate but actually pointed to wallets he'd make look like they belonged to Alina.

'This'll take time. But Mark's paying me to work on it. Ironic, really.'