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

The Mystery Player's Threat

Adam knocked on Neo's office door.

Well, not Neo's office. The empty office Neo rented two floors above Ames Digital. The one with no name on the door. The one Adam thought belonged to "Mr. Ames, Senior Partner."

"Come in," Neo said. Voice modulator app running on his phone. Made him sound older. More authoritative.

Adam entered. Nervous energy. Smoothing his tie.

"Sir, the team's making excellent progress. The trading algorithms are performing above projected returns."

"Good. Hiring?"

"Three more interviews this week. We should be at full staff by month's end."

Neo nodded. Kept his face angled away from the light. Hoodie up. Sunglasses on. Adam had never seen his face clearly.

"What about the building?"

"Building, sir?"

"For expansion. When we scale, we'll need dedicated space. I'm looking at the Meridian Tower."

Adam's eyes widened. "That's—that's forty-plus million."

"Forty-two. My offer's been accepted."

"We're—we're buying it?"

"Phoenix Holdings is buying it. Ames Digital will lease the top five floors at below-market rates. Tax advantages. Optics. Makes us look established."

Adam nodded slowly. Still processing.

"When?"

"Sixty-day close. I need you to start planning the buildout. Something impressive. Something that makes investors want to throw money at us."

"Investors?"

"We'll do a Series A in six months. You'll need a pitch deck. Growth projections. The usual."

Adam was sweating slightly. "Sir, I—of course. I'll start immediately."

"Good. That's all."

Adam left. Neo waited until the door closed.

Then he pulled off the sunglasses. Rubbed his eyes.

'Playing CEO is exhausting. But necessary.'

He needed Adam to think Neo Ames was a real person. A senior investor. Someone powerful and connected.

The more legitimate Ames Digital looked, the more people would trust it.

And the more people trusted it—

The easier it would be to execute phase three.

The scam.

–––––––––––

Neo pulled up a whiteboard app on his tablet. Started mapping it out.

Mark was greedy. Ambitious. Desperate to prove himself.

'So what kind of scam would hook him?'

Something that promised massive returns. Something exclusive. Something that made him feel smart for getting in early.

'A pump and dump? No. Too obvious.'

'Ponzi scheme? Maybe. But risky.'

Then it hit him.

'An ICO. Initial Coin Offering. Create a fake crypto project. Make it look revolutionary. Get Mark to invest heavily. Then pull the rug.'

Neo started sketching the concept.

A new cryptocurrency. Something that sounded impressive. Quantum-resistant encryption. Decentralized AI integration. Buzzwords that meant nothing but sounded cutting-edge.

Name: Helix Coin.

Pitch: The future of secure, intelligent blockchain technology.

Target: Investors like Mark. People who understood just enough to be dangerous but not enough to see through bullshit.

'I'll need whitepapers. A fake development team. A slick website. And most importantly—'

Social proof.

Early "investors" who seemed legitimate but were actually Neo's sock puppets.

He started building. Fake LinkedIn profiles. Fake endorsements. Fake Medium articles praising Helix Coin's innovative technology.

It would take weeks to set up properly. But when it was ready—

Mark wouldn't be able to resist.

–––––––––––

Lyra sat in a coffee shop. Laptop open. Notes spread across the table.

She'd requested an interview with Mark Carver. Professional courtesy. Just some follow-up questions about his brother-in-law's death.

He'd declined through his lawyer.

'Of course he did.'

But that just made her more determined.

She pulled up her anonymous email account. The one where all the tips came from.

Still no new messages.

'Come on. Give me something. Anything.'

As if on cue, her phone buzzed.

New email.

[Mark Carver is currently trying to hire a blockchain forensic analyst. He's looking for someone who can trace stolen cryptocurrency. Ask yourself—why would he need that unless he knew the crypto existed in the first place?]

Lyra's pulse quickened.

'Holy shit. He knows. He knows Noam had crypto. Which means—'

Which means the whole grieving family act was bullshit. They'd known about the assets. Had probably planned to take them.

And when the assets disappeared—

'They panicked. Started searching. Started making mistakes.'

She opened a new document. Started typing.

"The Carver Conspiracy: How a Grieving Family's Hunt for Hidden Wealth Exposes a Murder Plot"

Too dramatic. Too accusatory.

She deleted it. Started over.

"Following the Money: New Questions in the Noam Ash Case"

Better. More measured.

She wrote for two hours. Outlining everything she'd found. The insurance increase. The failed Japanese business. The crypto movements. Mark's current search for a forensic analyst.

Not enough to prove murder. But enough to raise serious questions.

Enough to make people look closer.

She hit save. Sent it to her editor at the independent site.

Within an hour, they responded.

"This is good. Really good. But we need more before we publish. Can you get on-record quotes? Police statements? Anything to back up the financial angle?"

Lyra stared at the email.

'How the hell am I supposed to get that? The police closed the case. The Carvers won't talk. My only source is anonymous.'

Her phone rang. Same unknown number.

She answered without thinking.

"Hello?"

Breathing. Then—

"Stop digging." Male voice. Distorted. "You're going to get hurt."

"Who is—"

Click.

Lyra sat frozen. Coffee shop noise faded to static.

'Threat. That was an actual threat.'

She should report it. Should tell someone.

Instead, she pulled up her article again.

Added a new line: "Despite threats and intimidation, this reporter will continue to investigate."

Then sent it back to her editor with a note: "I'm getting threatened. That means I'm onto something. We need to publish. Now."

–––––––––––

Neo watched the whole exchange through Lyra's hacked webcam.

Saw her type. Saw her react to the threatening call—which hadn't come from him, which was concerning.

'Who the hell is threatening her? The Carvers? Or—'

The mystery player. Had to be.

'They're trying to scare her off. Which means they don't want attention on this case. Which means they have something to hide beyond just the Carvers' involvement.'

Neo pulled up his own notes on the mystery caller. Still nothing concrete. Just shadows and distorted voices.

'Fine. If I can't find them directly, I'll use Lyra as bait. Let her investigation draw them out. Then I'll see who they really are.'

He drafted another anonymous email to Lyra.

[The person threatening you has connections to the Bellvue robbery. They're not just protecting the Carvers—they're protecting their own involvement. Be careful. But keep digging. You're closer than you know.]

Sent.

Then he pulled up Mark's messages. The "blockchain analyst" Mark had hired—aka Neo himself.

Time to send an update.