Page 72 of Knuckles & Knives
For the next hour, Marcus guides me through the intricacies of digital warfare with the patience of a master teaching his most promising student. His hands occasionally cover mine on the keyboard as he explains complex algorithms and security bypasses.
“Here,” he says, pulling up the final execution screen. “One command initiates the entire sequence. Are you ready?”
I look at the cursor blinking beside the execute command then at Marcus’s face. His usual composed mask has slipped slightly, revealing something raw and anticipatory underneath.
“Together?” I suggest.
He nods, and our fingers press the enter key simultaneously. For a moment, nothing happens. Then, data begins flowing across the screens—transactions rerouting, accounts emptying, digital dominoes falling in precisely orchestrated chaos.
“Phase one complete,” Marcus announces, monitoring the progress on multiple screens. “Richard’s emergency accounts are now our emergency accounts.”
“How much?”
“Twelve million and counting.” His smile is coldly satisfied. “Phase two should trigger in approximately… Now.”
More screens light up as the virus spreads deeper into the Sterling network. I watch in fascination as assets begin liquidating automatically, the proceeds flowing into accounts Marcus set up years ago under identities that exist only in cyberspace.
“This is beautiful,” I breathe, watching the systematic destruction unfold.
“Wait until you see phase three.” Marcus pulls up a new screen showing Richard Sterling’s personal devices—phone, laptop, tablet, all now compromised. “Real-time surveillance of his panic.”
Richard’s voice crackles through the speakers, shrill with barely controlled hysteria. “What do you mean the accounts are empty? Check again! Check them all!”
“Sir, I’ve verified it three times. Every offshore account, every shell company, every hidden fund… they’ve all been drained.”
“That’s impossible! Those accounts are encrypted, protected by military-grade security!”
“Nevertheless, sir, the money is gone.”
I lean back in my chair, watching Richard Sterling’s world collapse in real-time. “How long before he figures out it was us?”
“He won’t,” Marcus says confidently. “The attack appears to come from a rival Russian syndicate. I’ve planted evidencepointing to the Volkov family. They’ve been trying to move into Sterling territory for months anyway.”
“So Richard will go to war with the wrong enemy while we consolidate power in the chaos.”
“Exactly.” Marcus turns to face me fully, and I see something I’ve never seen in his composed features before—pure, predatory satisfaction. “He tried to kill you, Raven. He tried to take away everything that matters to me. This is what happens when someone threatens my family.”
The possessive edge in his voice thrills me. Marcus, who’s always so controlled, so analytical, is finally revealing the passionate intensity that burns beneath his careful exterior.
“Your family?” I ask softly.
“You. Dom. Kieran. Axel.” His eyes meet mine directly. “The only people who matter.”
He’s looking at me like I’m something precious and dangerous and absolutely essential.
“Marcus…”
“I know it’s complicated,” he says quietly. “I know you have feelings for all of us, and I know I’m not the easiest person to read, but, Raven, what I feel for you… it’s not just physical attraction or professional admiration. It’s deeper than that.”
I study his face, seeing past the composed mask to the brilliant, passionate man underneath. Marcus, who sees everything, plans for everything and protects us all from threats we don’t even know exist.
“I think I’m beginning to understand,” I whisper.
He stands slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, and extends his hand. I take it, letting him pull me to my feet, suddenly very aware that we’re alone in his secure facility at three in the morning with adrenaline and victory singing in our veins.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his thumb tracing across my knuckles.
Instead of answering, I rise on my toes and kiss him.
