June 1, 2025

2. The Invitation

2. The Invitation

Alessandro arrives in New York expecting a business meeting but walks into an elaborate trap. Marcus Sterling's luxury SoHo apartment isn't the reconciliation venue Alessandro anticipated—it's a carefully prepared prison. As Alessandro discovers that his former partner has stolen his proprietary code and been surveilling his life for months, the facade of friendship crumbles completely. What begins as growing unease transforms into stark terror when Alessandro realizes Marcus knows exactly how much cryptocurrency he owns: thirty-seven million dollars. When Alessandro refuses to hand over his wallet passwords, he's imprisoned in a reinforced room that was clearly designed for exactly this purpose. The digital dreams that brought them together are about to become Alessandro's worst nightmare.

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WEBVTT

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Previously on Crypto Kidnap. Alessandro Romano, a brilliant blockchain developer

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from Milan, partnered with New York entrepreneur Marcus Stirling to

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build a cryptocurrency empire, but when greed poisoned their friendship,

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Alessandro walked away. Two years later, Marcus made a phone

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call that would change everything. Caleruga Shark Media.

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JFK International Airport on a Tuesday morning in May is

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chaos incarnate. Thirty million passengers passed through these terminals every year,

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each one carrying their own hopes, fears, and secrets. Most

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arrived safely, most leave the same way. Alessandro Romano was

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not going to be one of them. Flight six oh

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eight from Milan touched down at Terminal one at seven

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forty two amme E Eastern time. Alessandro gathered his carry

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on bag, laptop, a few changes of clothes, and the

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naive belief that people could fundamentally change, and joined the

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river of passengers flowing toward customs. He barely slept during

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the eight hour flight, a part excitement, part anxiety, part

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jet lack, but mostly if he was honest with himself,

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part fear not fear of Marcus Sterling exactly. Fear of disappointment,

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fear of falling back into old patterns, fear that he

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was making a mistake. Sophia had tried to talk him

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out of coming. You don't owe him anything, she'd said

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the night before his departure, watching him pack his single suitcase.

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He treated you terribly. Why give him another chance to

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hurt you? Because maybe people can change, Alessandro had replied,

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though even as he said it, he was sure he

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believed it, and because the technology he described, Sophia, if

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it's real, it could revolutionize everything we've been working on.

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She'd kissed him goodbye at the door. Just promise me

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you'll trust your instincts. If something feels wrong, leave, Don't

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let your curiosity override your judgment. Standing in the customs

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line at JFK, Alessandro wished he'd listened to her more carefully.

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This is Crypto Kidnap, Episode two, The invitation. His phone

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buzzed as he cleared Immigration, a text from Marcus. Welcome

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to New York. Car is waiting outside Terminal one, black

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Tesla Model S driver will have your name. Can't wait

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to show you what we've been building. The Tesla was

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exactly where Marcus said it would be. The driver, a

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silent man in his fifties with Eastern European features, confirmed

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Alessandro's identity and loaded his bag without conversation. As they

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pulled away from the airport, Alessandro watched the New York

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skyline grow larger through the tinted windows. It had been

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three years since his last visit to the city, longer

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since he'd felt this mixture of anticipation and dread. The

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drive took forty five minutes through Queen's and Brooklyn, then

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across the Manhattan Bridge into the heart of Soho. Alessandro

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watched the neighborhood's change from industrial to trendy, from working

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class to impossibly expensive. Cast iron buildings gave way to

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boutique shops and art galleries. This was Marcus's world, now exclusive, sophisticated,

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and completely out of reach for most people. The tesla

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stopped in front of one twenty seven Prince Read. Alessandro

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looked up at the building and felt his first real

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stab of unease. This wasn't an office building or a

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co working space. This was a residential building, an expensive one.

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This is it, he asked the driver the man nodded

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toward the entrance. Mister Sterling is waiting. Alessandro climbed out

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of the car, shouldering his bag. The building was a

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beautifully restored nineteenth century brownstone, the kind that sold for

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tens of millions of dollars in this neighborhood. Wide steps

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led up to an ornate front door. Iron railings gleamed

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in the morning sun. Before he could ring the doorbell,

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the door swung open, Alessandro, Brother, you made it. Marcus

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Sterling stood in the doorway, arms spread wide and welcome.

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He looked good, better than good years had been kind

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to him. His hair was perfectly styled, his clothes expensive

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but casual. A Patec Philippe watch caught the light on

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his wrist. Success it seemed agreed with him, Marcus Alessandro said,

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accepting the enthusiastic hug. This is your office. I thought

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I was staying at a hotel. Marcus laughed, stepping back

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to let Alessandro inside. Change of plans, Brother, I realized

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how ridiculous it was you staying in some sterile hotel

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when I've got all this space. Besides, the project is

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so sensitive, it's better to keep everything in house, office, apartment, headquarters,

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whatever you want to call it. Come on, let me

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show you around. The interior of the building took Alessandro's

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breath away, soaring ceilings, original hardwood floors, windows that stretched

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from to ceiling. The space had been completely renovated, combining

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period details with cutting edge technology. It felt more like

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a luxury hotel than a home. Eight bedrooms, ten bathrooms,

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Marcus said, leading Alessandro through a living room that could

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have housed his entire Milan apartment. I rent it for

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special projects, having the team close together, you know, builds

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chemistry team. Alessandro asked, Oh, you'll meet everyone, but first

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let me show you where you'll be staying. Marcus led

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him up a curved staircase to the second floor. The

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guest room was larger than most New York studio apartments,

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with its own bathroom and a view of Print Street below.

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Alessandro set his bag on the king sized bed and

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turned to find Marcus watching him intently. What do you think,

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Marcus asked, It's incredible, Alessandro said, honestly, must cost a

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fortune thirty five thousand a month. Marcus said, casually, But

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when you're building something revolutionary expenses are just expenses. You hungry?

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I had my chef prepare lunch. Chef, of course, Marcus

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had a chef. Now they ate in a dining room

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that could have seated twenty people. The food was excellent,

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pasta arabiata that reminded Alessandro of home, fresh bread, wine

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that probably cost more than most people's rent. Marcus was

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the perfect host, asking about Alessandro's flight, his life in Milan,

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his new projects. But something felt off. Maybe it was

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the way Marcus's eyes kept drifting to Alessandro's phone when

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he set it on the table. Maybe it was how

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Marcus seemed to know more about Alessandro's recent work than

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their minimal contact should have allowed. Maybe it was the

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fact that in three hours, Alessandro hadn't seen any evidence

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of this revolutionary project. Marcus had summoned him across an

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ocean to discuss, so, Alessandro said, finally, setting down his wineglass,

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tell me about this project, the one that's going to

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change everything, Marcus smiled, patience, brother, all in good time. First,

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let me introduce you to the team. As if on cue,

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footsteps echoed from the hallway. Two people entered the dining room,

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a woman in her mid twenties with striking features and

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an expensive handbag, and a man roughly Alessandro's age, with

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the build of someone who spent serious time in the gym.

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Alessandro Romano meet Beatrice Volkov and Victor Petrov. Marcus said,

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Beatrix handles are operational logistics. Victor provides security and technical

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supp Alessandro stood to shake hands. Beatrice's grip was firm,

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her smile warm, but somehow calculating. Victor barely made eye contact.

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His handshake perfunctory. Pleasure to meet you, Beatrice said, with

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a slight accent. Alessandro couldn't place. Marcus has told us

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so much about your work, All good things, I hope,

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Alessandro replied, trying to keep the conversation light. Very good things,

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Victor said. His English was heavily accented Russian. Alessandro realized,

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your reputation precedes you. There was something about the way

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Victor said reputation that made Alessandro's skin crawl, like he

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was sizing up livestock. Well, Marcus said, clapping his hands together.

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Now that we're all acquainted, what do you say we

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get down to business? Alessandra, b are you ready to

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see the future. Alessandro nodded, though every instinct Sophia had

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warned him to trust was now screaming warnings. The house

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was too big, too expensive, too empty of actual work.

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The team felt more like enforcers than engineers, and Marcus.

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Marcus was performing playing a role. But curiosity had always

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been Alessandro's weakness, the need to see what came next,

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to understand how the pieces fit together. It was what

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made him a great developer. It was also he was

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beginning to realize what was going to get him in trouble.

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Lead the way, he said. Marcus led them to the basement,

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which had been converted into what he called the lab.

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High end computers lined the walls. Multiple monitors displayed scrolling code,

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and servers hummed quietly in climate controlled racks. It looked impressive, professional,

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and completely legitimate. This is where the magic happens, Marcus said,

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gesturing to the setup with obvious pride. Beatrice pull up

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the demo. For the next hour, Marcus walked Alessandro through

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what appeared to be a groundbreaking cryptocurrency protocol, something that

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would allow instant, zero fee transactions across any blockchain. The

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technical details were complex but sound. The code, from what

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Alessandro could see, was elegant and sophisticated. This is incredible,

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Alessandro said, studying the architecture diagrams on the main screen.

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The multi chain validation system alone would solve problems that

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have dumped developers for years. I told you, Marcus said, beaming.

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This isn't just an upgrade. This is a complete paradigm shift.

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And were maybe six months away from launch. Alessandro walked

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closer to the screens, his engineer's mind racing through possibilities

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and applications. The market impact would be enormous. This could

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make current DeFi protocols obsolete overnight, exactly, Marcus said, Which

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is why I need someone I trust to audit the

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security architecture, someone who understands the implications. Alessandro was hooked,

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and he knew it. This was the kind of project

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he'd dreamed about, building revolutionary technology that could genuinely change

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how the world thought about money and value transfer. I'd

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need to see the full codebase, he said, run comprehensive

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security tests, stress test the consensus mechanisms. Of course, Marcus said,

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that's why you're here. But Alessandro, this has to stay

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between us. If word gets out before we're ready, I understand,

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Alessandro said, when can I start? How about right now?

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Marcus gestured to a workstation that had been set up

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with multiple monitors and what looked like top of the

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line development tools. Your temporary office. Everything you need should

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be there. Alessandro sat down at the workstation and immediately

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felt at home. The setup was perfect, better than anything

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he had in Milan. Dual four K monitors, mechanical keyboard,

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enough processing power to run complex simulations. Someone had even

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configured the development environment exactly the way he preferred it.

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How did you know my ide preferences, he asked. Lucky guess,

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Marcus said, But something in his voice made Alice and

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look up sharply. For a split second, Marcus's face showed

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something other than friendly enthusiasm, something calculating, predatory even but

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it was gone so quickly. Alessandro wondered if he'd imagined it.

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I'll let you get started, Marcus said, take your time

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getting familiar with the architecture. We'll have dinner around eight.

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Go over any questions you have. Alessandro nodded, already pulling

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up code, repositories, and documentation. This was his element, complex systems,

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elegant solutions, the satisfaction of understanding how intricate pieces fit together.

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He worked for three hours without interruption. The code was

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even more impressive up close. Whoever had written this understood

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blockchain technology at a fundamental level. The security implementations were sophisticated,

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the optimization techniques cutting edge. But something nagged at him.

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The deeper he dug into the codebase, the more familiar

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certain modules began to look. Variable naming conventions, He recognized

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commenting styles that seemed oddly similar to his own work.

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Alessandro opened a version control system and began tracing the

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commit history. What he found made his blood run cold.

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Large sections of the code weren't just similar to his

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previous work with Marcus. They were identical, copy pasted from

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repositories that should have been private, that contained proprietary algorithms

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Alessandro had developed after their partnership ended. Son of a Bitch,

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he whispered, this wasn't a new project, this was theft.

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Marcus had somehow accessed Alessandro's private development repositories and stolen

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months of work. The revolutionary protocol was built on algorithms

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Alessandro had created in his Milan apartment, working late into

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the night on projects that had nothing to do with

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Marcus Sterling. Alessandro's hands shook as he pulled up more files.

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Not only had Marcus stolen his code, he'd improved it,

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expanded it, built an entire business around intellectual property that

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didn't belong to him. The door to the lab opened

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behind him. How's it going, brother? Marcus's voice was casual, friendly,

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but Alessandro could hear something else underneath watchfulness. Alessandro's mind raised.

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He was alone in a house with three people he

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barely knew, in a foreign country, having just discovered that

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his former partner was a thief. Sophia's words echoed in

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his memory. If something feels wrong, leave something was very,

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very It's impressive work, Alessandro said, carefully, not turning around.

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Really sophisticated architecture. I'm glad you approve, Marcus said. Alessandro.

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Could hear footsteps approaching? Find anything familiar about it? The

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question hung in the air like a threat. Alessandro's mouth

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went dry. Familiar how he asked, Come on, Alessandro, you're

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smarter than that. You must have recognized your own code

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by now. Alessandro slowly turned in his chair. Marcus stood

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six feet away, no longer bothering to hide the cold

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calculation in his eyes. Behind him, Victor and Beatrice flanked

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the doorway. Any pretense of friendship had evaporated my code,

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Alessandro tried to keep his voice steady. Your backup repositories,

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your private GitHub counts your encrypted cloud storage, Marcus smiled,

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but there was no warmth in it. Did you really

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think your security was that good? Victor here is very

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talented with computers, almost as talented as you. Alessandro's heart

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hammered against his ribs. You've been spying on me, borrowing,

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Marcus corrected. You always were too generous with your work,

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too willing to share your innovations with the world. I

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just focused that generosity. Alessandro stood up slowly, his eyes

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darting between Marcus and the two people blocking his exit.

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I want to leave. I'm afraid that's not possible, Marcus said.

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You see, there's a problem. You've seen too much, you

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know too much, and frankly, Alessandro, I still need something

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from you. What Marcus's smile. Your crypto wallet passwords all

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of them. See. Stealing your code was just the beginning.

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The real prize is that portfolio you've been building. Thirty

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seven million dollars in various cryptocurrencies, by my calculations, quite

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impressive for someone who claims to care more about technology

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than money. Alessandro's blood turned to ice. You're insane, I'm practical,

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Marcus replied. You created this wealth using algorithms I helped

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fund during our partnership. Legally, i'd argue I have a

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claim to a significant portion, but legal processes are slow

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and expensive. This is much more efficient. Alessandro took a

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step toward the door. Victor moved to block him completely.

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I'm leaving, Alessandro said, his voice stronger than he felt.

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You can't stop me, actually, Marcus said, nodding to I can.

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What happened next would replay in Alessandro's nightmares for years

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to come. Victor moved with surprising speed for such a

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large man. One moment, Alessandro was standing by the workstation,

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the next he was on the floor, with Victor's knee

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pressing into his back and zip ties cutting into his wrists.

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Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Marcus said,

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crouching down so Alessandro could see his face. I'm not

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a monster, Alessandro. I don't want to hurt you. I

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just want what you owe me. I don't owe you anything.

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Alessandro gasped, his cheek pressed against the cold concrete floor.

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Thirty seven million dollars says otherwise, Marcus replied, but we'll

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start small. Give me the passwords to your main wallets

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and we can discuss terms for your release. Alessandro's mind reeled.

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This couldn't be happening. People didn't just kidnap other people

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for cryptocurrency passwords. This was real life, not some thriller movie.

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But the zip ties cutting into his wrists were real,

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Victor's weight pressing down on him was real, and the cold,

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calculating look in Marcus's eyes was very, very real. Go

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to hell, Alessandro managed, Marcus sighed, I was hoping you'd

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be more reasonable. He nodded to Victor, who hauled Alessandro

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to his feet and marched him out of the lab,

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up two flights of stairs to a room on the

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third floor. Alessandro hadn't seen during his tour. The room

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had once been a bedroom. Now it was something else entirely.

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The windows were covered with steel plates. The door had

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been reinforced with additional locks. A single bed sat against

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one wall, next to a small table and chair. A

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bucket in the corner served as the only sanitation facility.

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It was a prison cell. Your accommodations for the evening,

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Marcus said, I've had some modifications made for security purposes.

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Victor will bring you dinner later. I suggest you used

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the time to reconsider your position. They shoved him into

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the room, and he heard the locks engage behind him,

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multiple locks industrial strength. Alessandro slumped onto the bed, his

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hand still zip tied behind his back, and tried to

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process what had just happened. Three hours ago, he'd been

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excited about a potential business opportunity. Now he was a

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prisoner in a Soho apartment, being held by a man

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he'd once considered a friend. His phone was gone, Victor

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had taken it during the struggle. His passport was in

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his bag, which was still in the guest room. He'd

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never see again. Even if he could somehow get free

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of the zip ties. The reinforced door and covered windows

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meant escape was impossible. Sophia had been right. He should

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have trusted his instincts, should have hung up when Marcus called,

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should have stayed in Milan, with his comfortable life and

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his loving girl friend and his legitimate projects. But he

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was here now, and Marcus Sterling, the man who had

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once praised his engineering genius and called him brother, was

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going to torture him for cryptocurrency passwords. Hours passed. Alessandro

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worked at the zip ties until his wrists bled, but

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they wouldn't budge. He examined every inch of the room,

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looking for weaknesses, escape roots, anything he could use as

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a weapon. Nothing. As darkness fell outside the steel covered windows,

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he heard footsteps in the hallway. The locks disengaged, and

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Victor entered, carrying a tray of food in a bottle

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of water. Eat. Victor commanded, in his heavily accented English,

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hard to eat with my hands tied behind my back,

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Alessandro said. Victor set down the tray and pulled out

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a knife. For a terrifying moment, Alessandro thought the man

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was going to stab him. Instead, Victor cut the zip ties,

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then immediately stepped back out of reach. Eat. He repeated,

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scream and things get worse. Alessandro rubbed feeling back into

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his wrists and looked at the food pasta again, probably

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from the same chef who'd prepared lunch. The surreal normalcy

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of it made everything worse somehow. How long, he asked, long?

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What?

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How long has Marcus been planning this? Victor studied him

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for a moment. Long time. He talks about you, often

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says you stole from him. I never stole anything. Maybe

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maybe not, not my problem. Victor moved toward the door, Eat, sleep, Tomorrow.

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We talk about passwords and if I don't give them

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to you. Victor paused in the doorway, then tomorrow becomes

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very unpleasant day. The locks engaged again, leaving Alessandro alone

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with his dinner and his growing terror. He ate mechanically

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forcing down food that tasted like cardboard. Outside, he could

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hear the sounds of soho at night, traffic voices, people

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living their normal lives just a few feet away from

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where he sat, imprisoned. If he could get to a window,

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if he could make noise, surely someone would hear him.

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But the steel plates were welded in place, and the

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room was on the third floor of a building. Surrounded

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by other expensive properties. Even if he screamed, who would investigate?

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Who would care about noise from a luxury apartment in

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one of Manhattan's most exclusive neighborhoods. Alessandro lay down on

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the bed, fully clothed, and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow,

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Marcus would escalate, the threats would become reality, and Alessandro

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would have to decide how much pain he could endure

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before giving up the financial freedom he'd spent years building.

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Thirty seven million dollars. Marcus had known the exact amount,

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had been tracking Alessandro's investments, his wallet addresses, his trading

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activity for how long months year. The betrayal cut deeper

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than the zip tie marks on his wrists. Marcus hadn't

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called to apologize or offer a genuine partnership. He'd called

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because he'd been planning this kidnapping for who knew how long,

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and Alessandro had walked right into the trap. As he

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drifted toward an uneasy sleep, Alessandro's last coherent thought was

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a promise to himself. Whatever happened tomorrow, he would not

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make it easy for them. Marcus Sterling wanted his cryptocurrency fortune.

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He was going to have to work for every Satoshi.

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The digital dreams that had brought them together were about

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to become a nightmare that would test the limits of

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human endurance.

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Crypto Kidnap is a production of Calaoga Shark Media executive

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producers Mark Francis and John McDermott. Crypto Kidnap is a

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work of fiction based on real world events. A I

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may have been used in the production of this episode.