Chapter 819
The basement interrogation room at the estate wasn’t a dungeon, but it wasn’t a guest suite either. It was soundproof, windowless, and cold.
Travis Tate sat in a metal chair, looking like a neon sign in a graveyard. He wore a loud floral-print shirt, ripped designer jeans, and enough gold chains to anchor a boat. He was twitching, his eyes darting around the room. He looked less like a playboy and more like a man who had seen a ghost.
The door opened. I walked in, flanked by Alistair and Lucian.
Travis jumped. “Whoa! The cavalry!” He whistled, looking me up and down, though his hands were shaking. “You must be the Oracle. Hotter in person.”
Lucian stepped forward and kicked the leg of Travis’s chair. Hard.
Travis yelped as the chair skidded a few inches. “Hey! Watch the merchandise!”
𝖬𝘰𝘳𝘦 n𝗈𝘷е𝗅ѕ 𝘰n 𝘨𝗮𝘭𝗇𝘰𝗏𝖾𝘭𝘴.со𝘮
“Sit still,” Lucian growled.
I sat on the edge of the table, crossing my legs. “Travis. I hear you have something for me.”
“Information,” Travis said, leaning back and trying to regain his composure. “Encryption keys. About who hacked the Global Bank. But it’s gonna cost you. Five mil. Non-negotiable. And I want a flight out of the country. Somewhere with no internet.”
“Five million,” I repeated. “That’s a lot of money for a rumor.”
“It’s not a rumor! It’s proof!” Travis insisted. “I have logs. Names. I know where the Phoenix nests.”
“I’m sure you do,” I said. I pulled out my phone. “By the way, have you checked the news today?”
Travis frowned. “I don’t do news. I do poker.”
“You should really diversify,” I said, turning the screen toward him.
It was a live ticker from the emergency broadcast system.
Tate Corp: Assets Frozen. Investigation Pending.
“What did you do?” Travis whispered, the color draining from his face.
“I initiated a debt call,” I said casually. “And then I bought the notes. As of ten minutes ago, Oracle Holdings owns the controlling interest in your father’s debt. I’m effectively the owner of Tate Corp.”
Travis stared at me. The cocky playboy facade cracked. Underneath, I saw something darker—a flash of genuine, sharp intelligence mixed with absolute terror. He wasn’t just a fool; he was playing one to survive.
“My dad will kill me,” he muttered. “He’ll think I helped you.”
“He probably will,” I agreed. “Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless you work for me,” I said.
Alistair looked at me sharply. “Skye?”
“I’ll pay off your gambling debts,” I said to Travis. “I’ll secure your safety against the loan sharks. In exchange, you give me the intel. And you become my personal assistant.”
Travis blinked. “Your… what?”
“Assistant. Decode drives. Fetch coffee. Monitor the Dark Web frequencies.”
“I’m a Tate!” he sputtered. “I don’t fetch coffee!”
“You’re a broke Tate,” I corrected. “And your father is about to find out you tried to sell family secrets. You need protection, Travis. The Phoenix doesn’t leave loose ends. I’m offering it.”
Travis looked at Lucian, then at Alistair, then back at me. He licked his lips. He knew the score. Outside these walls, he was a dead man walking.
“Fine,” he said. “But I want a signing bonus.”
“Your bonus is that you walk out of this room with your kneecaps intact,” Alistair said.
Travis gulped. “Deal.”
“Lucian,” I said, standing up. “Get him a uniform. Something… polyester. And set up a workstation in the secure server room. I want to see what he can do.”
As we walked out, leaving Travis with the guards, Alistair grabbed my arm.
“He’s a Trojan Horse, Skye,” Alistair whispered. “He’s pretending to be scared. He wants access to the estate.”
“I know,” I said, my voice low. “He’s terrified, yes, but he’s also calculating. But if we kick him out, he goes underground, or the Phoenix silences him. If we keep him here, we can watch him.”
“Keep your friends close,” Alistair muttered.
“And your enemies making your latte,” I finished.