My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 763

Chapter 763

The council.

Hazel’s fear.

Pieces that hadn’t fit together before suddenly began locking into place with frightening speed.

A cold calm settled over me.

I folded the letter with far more care than I’d expected myself capable of. The paper disappeared back into the envelope before I slipped both it and the memory card into the inside pocket of my jacket.

Medusa shifted across my shoulders, her body tightening for a brief moment before relaxing again. I reached behind my neck and guided her back toward the glass enclosure. She moved without resistance, sliding from my arm onto one of the thick branches inside her habitat.

I closed the enclosure the second she was inside. The magnetic lock clicked shut. I turned around and walked toward the door.

The walk lasted exactly two steps, and then I broke into a run.

The estate blurred around me. Guards stepped aside before I reached them, recognizing the look on my face before I said a single word. Someone called after me, but I didn’t bother turning around. Whatever they wanted could

wait.

This couldn’t.

The garage echoed with the sound of hurried footsteps. Rows of cars sat beneath bright white lights. I ignored every one of them.

I snatched the helmet off the handlebars, swung onto the bike, and fired the engine to life. The roar filled the garage, bouncing off the concrete walls before the security doors had even finished opening.

Cold air hit me the moment I shot out onto the road. The city became nothing but streaks of light.

The engine screamed beneath me as I cut through the streets. Red lights blurred past. Speed limits became meaningless numbers painted onto signs I had no intention of obeying

I honestly couldn’t have told anyone how I got there. One moment I was leaving the estate. The next, the glass tower of Orion Vector Technologies stood above me, reflecting the city lights across its dark surface.

I pulled into the underground entrance, and the security barriers lifted before my motorcycle had fully stopped. Cameras tracked every movement. License plate recognition. Facial recognition. Thermal scans. Layer after layer of security verified my identity without slowing me down.

By the time the motorcycle rolled to a stop, I was already climbing off.

I ripped the helmet free and strode through the private entrance without breaking pace.

The overnight reception staff looked up immediately, “Good evening, Mr. Capone.”

The private elevator waited at the end of the corridor, hidden behind a wall that most employees assumed was decorative. A camera scanned my face as I approached. Another verified my retina.

The doors opened before I reached them. I stepped inside. No one else had access to this elevator. No buttons listed the destination I wanted. I pressed my thumb against the concealed biometric reader, and the elevator began descending.

1/2

• 15 Botet

The doors slid open and the basement stretched farther than most people would believe possible, an entire underground floor that never slept.

Hundreds of monitors lit the room in shades of blue and white. Massive server racks hummed behind reinforced glass. Analysts studied live financial markets while programmers wrote code faster than most people could read it. Engineers dismantled electronics on one side of the room while cybersecurity teams monitored networks spanning half the country on the other.

Large digital maps tracked shipments, communications, and financial movements in real time.

People noticed me immediately and chairs rolled back.

“Boss.”

“Mr. Capone.”

“Evening, sir.”

But nothing existed beyond the office waiting at the end of the corridor.

Because whatever was hidden inside that damaged piece of plastic was about to change everything.

The moment the office door sealed behind me, every other thought disappeared. I crossed the room and dropped the envelope onto my desk. The memory card stayed in my hand.

Only then did I look at it properly.

The crack started near one corner and stopped just short of the center. The plastic housing had taken most of the impact. I switched on the workbench built into the far wall.

The surface came to life beneath my fingertips. Overhead lights brightened automatically while a row of monitors woke from sleep. A robotic inspection arm folded down from above, followed by a digital microscope.

I laid the card beneath the lens, the image appeared across three monitors at once. Every scratch, every crack, every grain of dust, magnified until it looked like a canyon.

日

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