The Billionaire Who Stole My Life and the Secret Brother Who Kept It
I put the silver drive into my pocket and walked out of the library.
The New York afternoon was turning dark and cold.
I walked three blocks to a small, quiet coffee shop I knew on a side street.
It was mostly empty, smelling of roasted beans, cinnamon, and wet coats.
I chose a booth in the very back, far from the windows.
I opened my laptop, my fingers trembling slightly as I booted it up.
I plugged the silver drive into the side port.
The screen flickered.
A prompt appeared, asking for a security protocol.
I turned the drive over.
In tiny, etched numbers on the silver casing was an IP address and a passcode.
I typed them into the terminal.
The screen went black for three seconds.
Then, a complex directory tree appeared on the screen.
It was labeled *Whitmore Global – Private Ledger – Confidential*.
I clicked on the first folder.
It was titled *Trust Liquidation*.
I scrolled through the PDF documents, my eyes straining to read the columns of numbers.
The numbers were massive.
Millions of dollars were being transferred every week.