Chapter 18
The federal raid tore the corporate office apart. Servers were ripped from their racks, files were confiscated in massive boxes, and the entire legitimate front of the Falcone empire was plunged into chaos.
Dominic sat calmly through the entire ordeal, his hands resting on the table. He did not argue. He did not threaten the agents. His sociopathic detachment was terrifying to the frantic lawyers scrambling around him.
When the FBI finally left, leaving behind a ruined office, Silas looked at his boss in disbelief. "They took everything, Boss. If they decrypt those servers, we are facing federal indictments across the board."
"They will not decrypt them," Dominic stated softly, standing up and adjusting his suit jacket. "The primary servers are rigged with a failsafe. The moment they attempt to bypass the encryption off-site, the hard drives will melt. They confiscated useless plastic."
Silas exhaled a long breath of relief. "But the leak, Boss. Someone had to provide them with the initial routing numbers to get the warrant."
"Arthur Sinclair is a politician," Dominic murmured, walking toward the shattered glass doors. "He does not understand digital warfare. He hired a proxy. Find the hacker, Silas. Bring him to me alive."
The return to the estate was tense. The cinematic, bright afternoon light felt mocking as the syndicate braced for the legal fallout. Dominic bypassed the atrium and walked directly to his subterranean command center, where his own cyber division was already hunting the source of the leak.
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"We found the digital footprint, Mr. Falcone," the lead technician reported quickly. "The data packet was routed through a highly encrypted server in a luxury hotel downtown. The IP address belongs to a private security consultant."
"A consultant," Dominic repeated, a dark, lethal smile touching his lips. "Give me the room number."
