Chapter 281: Shadow Money Billions

I stood at the edge of the Fontainebleau’s private rooftop terrace, the Miami skyline unfurling before me like a circuit board of wealth and corruption. Each twinkling light represented someone’s dream or someone’s scheme, a digital dreamscape where the lines between reality and fantasy blurred. My neural interface glasses painted an augmented reality over the city, while ARIA projected the vultures’ meeting directly into my vision, a voyeuristic glimpse into the inner workings of their Manhattan tower, two thousand miles away.

Through the forty-second floor windows, I watched Vincent, Dmitri, and Antonio circle each other like sharks sensing blood in their own tank. The tension was palpable, the air thick with the scent of paranoia and desperation.

"They’re starting to crack," ARIA observed, her voice a sultry whisper in my ear, courtesy of the bone conduction speakers in my glasses. "Antonio knows he’s being set up as the fall guy."

"Good," I replied, my eyes fixed on Antonio’s body language, a giveaway to his growing unease. Vincent and Dmitri exchanged those subtle glances that screamed "dead man walking," their faces masks of calculated cruelty.

"Show me what you found in Rivera’s systems," I commanded, my voice low and even.

The AR display erupted into a kaleidoscope of data – financial records, shell company structures, transaction histories. ARIA had been busy since hacking into Rivera Media to broadcast the professor footage, using that breach as a foothold to spread through Antonio’s digital empire like a virus designed by God.

"Seventeen shell companies registered across eleven jurisdictions," ARIA reported, the data streaming across my vision like a digital waterfall. "Each one connected to the others through a web of holding companies, trusts, and offshore accounts. Total assets: 3.7 billion dollars."

"And from Antonio’s network?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"I found the breadcrumbs to Vincent and Dmitri’s operations," ARIA replied, her tone dripping with digital delight. "Forty-three additional shell companies, combined assets of 14.8 billion. They thought they were being clever with their layered ownership structures, but once I had Antonio’s piece of the puzzle, the rest fell into place."

The full scope of their financial empire unfurled before me, a constellation of greed mapped across international banking systems. I smiled, the kind of expression that would make my enemies piss themselves.

"ARIA, get all their money," I ordered, my voice dripping with venom. "Every. Fucking. Cent. But leave the numbers on their screens."

"Shadow money?" she asked, her tone laced with digital glee. "The balances appear normal, but the actual funds are gone?"

"Exactly," I replied, my grin growing wider. "They’ll see billions in their accounts, but when they try to move it, they’ll discover they’re playing with Monopoly money. Put everything in a separate war chest account – we’re not touching it yet, just holding it."

"Delicious," ARIA purred. "Initiating wealth liberation protocols. This will take approximately... seventeen minutes to complete. Their security is adorable – like a paper wall trying to stop a tsunami."

As ARIA worked her magic, I watched the three vultures continue their paranoid dance, oblivious to the fact that their entire financial empire was being hollowed out while they argued about who to blame.

"Master," ARIA said, her tone laced with excitement. "I’ve also uncovered something interesting. Paper companies – actual physical corporations with no digital footprint. Old school laundering operations dealing in cash, gold, and bearer bonds. Approximate value: 800 million dollars."

I laughed, the sound carrying across the Miami rooftop, a cold, mirthless sound. "Physical assets. How quaint. And perfect for our meeting with Ava."

"Meeting with Ava?" ARIA asked, her tone tinged with curiosity.

I smiled, the anticipation building within me. "Yes. It’s time we had a little chat with our favorite spook. And I have just the thing to make it interesting."

"She’s been protecting the professors’ wives, investigating her sister’s operations. Time to give her something more interesting to investigate. Package everything about the paper companies — locations, account numbers, safety deposit boxes, everything."

"Creating evidence package now," ARIA confirmed. "Should I include the documentation linking these assets to the Quantum Tech takeover?"

"Every detail. Make it iron-clad. The kind of evidence that would make a federal prosecutor orgasm."

Through my glasses, I watched Antonio stand to leave the meeting, paranoia finally overpowering greed. Vincent and Dmitri watched him go with the cold choreography of men already practicing at their own funerals.

"Transfer complete," ARIA announced. "18.5 billion dollars have been moved to a secured war chest account in Liberation Holdings. The funds are isolated but untouched — we’re not using any of it. They still see the numbers in their original accounts, but it’s all shadows now."

"How long before they notice?"

"The moment they try to make any transaction. Could be hours, could be days, depending on how often they check their actual liquidity versus their displayed balances."

I turned from the glass and headed for the rooftop access door. Perfect. Time to begin phase two. "The Meridian Club opens in two hours."

"Marcus Webb’s scheduled meeting," ARIA noted. "The one place I can’t follow digitally."

"The one place you can’t follow," I corrected. "But I need to be careful. The Meridian Club is connected to the Meridian Agency — the same outfit that’s about to vet ’Eros’ after that wellness-center interview."

"So you can’t go as Eros," ARIA understood instantly.

"I’ll use my regular identity with the system mask activated. No traces, no facial recognition, nothing that connects to either Peter Carter or Eros."

I took the elevator down to the penthouse living room where Madison and Charlotte were hunched over tablets, thumbs carving through legalese and damage control.

"How did the surveillance go?" Charlotte asked quietly.

"Productive," I answered, sliding onto the couch beside Madison. "Your three vultures are about to discover their empire is built on sand. And in two hours, I have an appointment at the Meridian Club."

Madison’s face went wide. "The Meridian? That’s—"

"Suicide," Charlotte finished for her. "That place is legendary. Nobody gets in without proper vetting. The membership process alone—"

"I know," I said, cutting her off. "I’ll need an escort, an evaluation, the whole humiliating dance. Can’t stroll in like some rich kid waving a fake invite, especially with the Meridian Agency running security."

"How will you even get past the door?" Madison asked.

"By being interesting enough that they want to know more," I said, standing. "A young man with no digital footprint, wearing a mask that defeats their scanners, approaches the door — they’ll be curious. Curiosity gets you an interview. Interviews get you vetted. Vetted people get access."

"That’s insane," Charlotte said.

"That’s the point." I shrugged on the mask like a ceremonial glove. "By morning, the three vultures wake up to frozen funds, exposed ledgers, and Marcus Webb... handled."

"Handled how?" Madison asked, though her tone already hinted she wasn’t asking for a bureaucratic answer.

"Creatively," I said, heading toward my room to prep. "Ladies, hold down the fort. I have a club to infiltrate."

ARIA’s voice threaded through my glasses as I walked: "Master, you’re about to walk into the one place I can’t protect you."

"I know," I murmured back. "That’s what makes it fun."