Billionaire Cashback System: I Can't Go Broke!

Morales hadn’t stopped watching Ryan through all of this — the same warm, settled attention, the smile present but doing less work than it had been at the start of the meeting.

"You came prepared," Morales said.

"It’s an important meeting," Ryan said.

"Most come in here nervous," Morales said. "Even people who have nothing to worry about. The environment—" he gestured vaguely at the room, "—tends to produce a certain anxiety."

"I don’t have anything to worry about," Ryan said. "So I’m not anxious."

Morales looked at him.

The warmth was still there. But something behind it had shifted in a way that was subtle and deliberate — the friendliness becoming a tool being considered rather than a default being offered.

"Tell me about your relationship with Diana Lockridge," he said. "Beyond the investment."

"Professional," Ryan said. "She’s an investor and an advisory board member. We communicate regularly about the company."

"How regularly."

"Weekly at minimum. More frequently when there are active decisions."

"And you’ve met in person—"

"Several times. The gallery introduction, the initial investment meeting, a team presentation she attended, a golf event, the Lockridge Foundation dinner."

Park was writing steadily.

"The Foundation dinner," Morales said. "That was a social event."

"It was a professional event I was invited to as a portfolio company founder. Diana introduced me to several contacts that are relevant to the business."

"Do you socialize with Ms. Lockridge outside of business contexts?"

Ryan looked at him. "The question sounds different from the ones before it."

Morales smiled. "Just building a complete picture."

"The complete picture is that Diana Lockridge is my investor and I conduct myself accordingly." Ryan held Morales’ gaze. "Is the nature of my relationship with my investor relevant to the examination of my financial records?"

A beat.

Ryan knew it was. They wanted to know if he was close enough to Diana to have her edit financial records for him, but that wasn’t an accusation they could outrightly make with no evidence.

Park stopped writing.

Morales tilted his head slightly. "We ask broad questions at this stage, Mr. Russo. It helps us understand context."

"I understand," Ryan said. "And I’m happy to answer questions about my financial records and business activity. If the scope is broader than that, I’d want to understand the basis for it."

The room was quiet for a moment.

Morales looked at Park.

Park looked at his notes.

Then Morales leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk, and the warmth in his expression had reorganized itself into something more direct.

"Mr. Russo," he said. "Let’s talk about the period before the Lockridge investment was formalized. Specifically the two weeks prior to your registration of Rebuild Tech. During that period your account received several deposits that predate any documented business activity." He paused. "Where did that money come from."

Ryan looked at him.

He reached into his folder.

He produced a third document — a one page summary that Patricia had prepared, titled ’Pre-Formation Financial Activity — Russo Personal Account’, which outlined a series of small consulting engagements conducted in the weeks before the company was registered, informal work performed during the period he was developing the company concept, payments received from two individuals whose names appeared in the document along with their contact information.

He placed it on the desk.

"Consulting work," Ryan said. "Informal, pre-company. The individuals are contactable if you need to verify."

Morales picked it up.

Read it slowly.

Set it down.

And for the first time since Ryan had walked into the room, the expression on Agent Morales’ face wasn’t the one he’d been wearing.

Park wrote three lines.

"We’ll need to verify these," Morales said.

"Of course," Ryan said. "The contact information is on the document."

Morales looked at Ryan like he was recalibrating.

"Mr. Russo," he said, "how long have you been in financial services."

"I’m a software developer," Ryan said. "I’ve just had good advice."

Morales looked at the documents on the desk. At his own folder. At Park’s notes.

"I think," he said, "we’ll take a short break."

He stood.

Park stood.

"Can I get you anything?" Morales said. "Water. Coffee."

"Water would be good," Ryan said. "Thank you."

Morales nodded and both men left.

Ryan sat alone in the office with the plant in the corner and the window showing the side of a building and the folder on his knee with two more documents still in it.

He didn’t reach for his phone or look at the door.

Just sat.

The water cooler in the hallway gurgled faintly.

He waited.

The consulting document. Patricia had put it together from real information — two former colleagues from Meridian who Ryan had done informal technical work for in the weeks after he left, small things, an afternoon each, the kind of favors that happened between people who’d worked together and that nobody formally documented. Patricia had formalized them retroactively, reached out to both men, confirmed the work, and produced a document that was accurate in every detail.

It would verify.

He recalled Morales’ face when he’d read it. The warmth reorganizing itself. The calculation behind it becoming visible for the first time.

These were not men conducting a routine examination. Routine examinations didn’t have two agents, didn’t start with twenty minutes of deliberate comfort-building before shifting gears, didn’t ask about the personal nature of his relationship with his investor.

Someone had pointed them here.

Not a flag from the bank’s automated system. That would produce a letter, a standard query, a single agent with a checklist. This was something else — the shape of an investigation that had a direction before it walked into the room.

The texts.

*We are onto you Russo. It’s only a matter of time.*

*You’re running out of time.*

Unknown number with no follow-up. No demands. Just pressure, applied at intervals, designed to produce exactly the anxiety that Morales had noted Ryan wasn’t showing.

Someone who knew his name. Who knew enough to know there was something to find. Who had decided the IRS was the right instrument.

Ryan sat with that.

The door opened.

Morales came back in with a paper cup of water and his settled expression restored to its original setting, the recalibration complete, a new approach loaded.

Park followed. Sat. Opened the pad to a fresh page.

Morales set the water in front of Ryan.

"Thank you," Ryan said.

"Of course." Morales sat. Looked at his own folder briefly, then back at Ryan. "The consulting contacts — we’ll reach out this week. Standard verification." He paused. "In the meantime, I want to come back to the Lockridge investment timeline."

"Okay."

"The term sheet," Morales said. "You said the initial investment conversation happened shortly after the gallery introduction."

"Correct."

"That’s a fast timeline. Gallery introduction to term sheet in — what, two weeks?"

"Just under three," Ryan said. "Diana moves quickly when she’s interested in something. It’s one of the reasons her fund performs the way it does."

"Did you have a formal pitch prepared at that point."

"I had a concept and a team. The formal deck came later, for the full investment meeting. The initial conversation was more directional."

"What did you show her."

"The problem the product solves. The market it addresses. The team I was assembling." Ryan picked up the water. "She asked me to tell her in two minutes why she should care. I did. She asked for a formal meeting. We had one."

"And at the formal meeting."

"Full deck. Team present. Her technical advisor attended."

"Dr. Cole," Park said.

Ryan looked at him. "You’ve done your research."

"We do thorough work," Park said evenly.

"So does Dr. Cole," Ryan said. "She recommended the investment."

Park wrote.

Morales leaned forward slightly. "Mr. Russo, the investment agreement — the backdated consultation period." He said it plainly, watching Ryan’s face. "Walk me through what that period actually looked like."

The room was very still.

Ryan looked at Morales.

"The agreement reflects a consultation period that began prior to formal documentation," Ryan said. "That’s standard for early stage investments. The relationship and the directional conversations predate the paperwork. The paperwork formalizes what was already in motion." He held Morales’ gaze. "That’s in the agreement itself. The language is precise."

"It is precise," Morales said. "Diana Lockridge’s attorneys are excellent."

"They are."

A pause.

"Mr. Russo," Morales said, and the warmth was gone now, cleanly and finally, "is there anything about your financial activity in the past two months that you’d like to tell us before we continue? Anything that might be helpful for us to understand the full context."

Ryan looked at him.

Picked up the water. Took a sip. Set it down.

"Agent Morales," he said, "I’ve provided documentation for every deposit in my account. I’ve provided contact information for verification. I’ve provided the investment agreement, the disbursement schedule, the company financial records, and the amended pre-formation activity summary." He looked at both of them in turn. "If there’s a specific transaction you’d like to address, I’m happy to address it. If there’s a specific discrepancy in the documentation, I’d like to see it." He paused. "But I’m not going to speculate about what you might be looking for in the hope of accidentally providing something you haven’t asked for."

The room was quiet.

Park’s pen was still.

Morales looked at Ryan for a long moment.

Then he looked at his folder.

Closed it.

"I think," he said, "that’s probably a good place to pause for today."