Page 58 of Brutal Truths

That’s…. not what I expected. “You rob people?”

He nods, like that checks out, and then motions for me to follow him, already heading down the hall. I fall into step beside him as he continues, casual as anything. “Pauly and I work together. We break into homes and businesses to test their security and find the weak points. He’s the tech guru—nobody hacks systems faster than Pauly. I handle the locks. Doors, safes… doesn’t matter.”

We step into a bedroom on the far side of the house. It’s nothing like mine. Tables crowd the space, every surface covered in monitors that throw shifting light across the room. Pauly sits surrounded by them, fingers moving fast over the keyboard while his attention splits between multiple screens.

He glances up, pauses, removes his headset, and flashes me an easy smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What are you doing?” I stay just inside the doorway, taking it all in.

Leaning back in his chair, he points at the screens in front of him. “That’s a complicated question. Right now, I’m taking a break from what has turned into a fucking black-hole of information and doing something fun—breaking into a client’s financials.”

His grin widens. “He paid a company a ridiculous amount of money to lock everything down. I got in under ten minutes and was just about to trip the alarms, collect our fee, and leave the company a nice little present they won’t be able to clean up without hiring us.”

“Is that legal?” I slide into one of the empty rolling chairs, my gaze fixed on the screen.

Pauly lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug, the tip of his nose going red.

Fucking adorable.

“We warned them,” he says, leaning in, fingers moving with ease. “Told the company one of their clients hired us to infiltrate their system. Giving them ample time to fix their weak spots or bring us on to point them out. They refused. Told us they were confident we couldn’t get in.”

Reaching forward, he presses the return key, and one of his screens turns red and starts flashing.

My stomach flips, a rush of panic hitting before I can stop it. Then I see the stupid grin on his face.

Calm. Amused. Completely in control.

“It’s like stealing candy from a baby.”

Moving to the opposite side of the room, Lane takes a seat before a bank of screens, logging in like he’s done it a thousand times. “Now they want our help. How long should we make them sweat it out?”

Pauly sinks back into his chair, letting out a relaxed sigh. He places his arms behind his head and props his feet on the shaky edge of the makeshift desk.

“Thirty minutes should do the trick.” His lips twitch. “I’d say an hour, but they’ve got too many clients who depend on them. Not their fault these shitheads left a backdoor wide open.”

I rock the chair back and forth, a rhythmic creak giving my mind something to focus on. “Are there really backdoors? I thought that was pure fabrication, a cliché added to movies and books to make the plots seem more believable. Like the dark web.”

The shift is immediate. Both men go still, the ease from a second ago gone.

Lane leans forward. “The dark web is not made-up. It’s very real.”

I lift my hands, trying to soften it. “I know there’s a dark corner of the internet you don’t want to explore, but⁠—”

“It’s not somewhere you stumble into. You have to know how to get there.” Pauly points to a screen on his left, his expression losing its edge of humor. “And the people there are dangerous. They don’t fuck around. They will kill you if you find something you aren’t supposed to see. No questions asked, nor apologies accepted. They’ll find you first.”

His warning has me nodding, feeling very well scolded for my comment. “I’m not planning on going anywhere near that. I believe you. They’re dangerous individuals. Aren’t you worried about getting caught?”

“No.” Pauly faces me, his expression unreadable. “I know what the fuck I’m doing. Could they track me down? Maybe. But it would take hours, and by then I’m long gone or have redirected them down another wormhole.”

I don’t push it. I wouldn’t know what to argue. Everything about this room, this set up, the way he moves between screens, it all points to someone who operates with precision—not luck.

Glancing between the two of them, a thought settles into place.

“You both know everything Aiden does, right?”

They nod, almost in sync.

“I know he found some items at my grandparents’ home.” I shift forward in my seat, attention locked on them now. “He hasn’t had a chance to go over it with me yet. Think you could fill me in?”