My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible

Liam sat quietly in the back seat of the Rolls Royce Phantom, as it rolled down Sheikh Zayed Road, heading back toward the Burj Khalifa. The morning sun had risen fully now, flooding the highway with pale gold. Traffic was slow but steady.

But Liam wasn't looking at the view. His mind wandered back to the meeting that had ended only twenty minutes ago.

It had been almost identical to the meeting he had two days ago with the Crown Prince of Abu Dhabi—calm, polite and wrapped with warm courtesy—but beneath the surface, the tone was completely different.

The Deputy Prime Minister of Saudi Arabia, who was also the Minister of Defense, did not waste time with slow formalities. He was direct. His words were sharp but still respectful.

He asked without hesitation and without pause. And the two men he brought with him — an intelligence official and the kingdom's economic advisor — sat quietly but watched Liam with eyes that missed nothing.

The meeting began with that familiar opening praises and question, one Liam had come to expect:

"How did you purchase a private A380?"

It always started with the plane. The giant aircraft that even billionaires found hard to buy and harder to maintain. The aircraft that made the entire world turn their heads the day Liam took delivery.

From there, the Deputy Prime Minister had pushed deeper.

"What business does your family truly run?"

"Where did the liquidity come from?"

"How is it possible for someone under thirty to handle operations of this scale?"

"Who advises you?"

Liam had kept his tone calm, steady, and polite as he answered each questions.

The Deputy Prime Minister listened, nodded, and smiled. But Liam could tell the man didn't believe a word of what he said.

He hadn't believed not because Liam's answers were bad. But because they were too clean, too simple, too neat and too structured.

There was no real wealthy family that had everything arranged so conveniently.

The intelligence officer was the one who made things more interesting. He didn't ask questions. All he dod was just watched Liam. He watched his every smile, every blink and every breath, trying to decode something that wasn't there.

Liam had found it amusing. Yes, he had expected curiosity. But this level of analysis came close to suspicion.

Of course, they had every reason to be suspicious.

Thanks to Lucy, Liam kept up with everything happening around his name. He already knew that governments, intelligence agencies and elite individuals across the world had dug into his background the moment his A380 appeared in the sky.

They ran full investigations on him, his past, his family, his records — everything. And every single one of them hit the same wall.

Liam Scott's past looked normal. Too normal.

The only unusual part was the generational family office and the inheritance trail attached to his name.

Even that alone was strange.

No one could understand how an inheritance structure could be documented decades before Liam was even born. It made no sense. It wasn't supposed to be possible. Even the oldest dynasties and richest families couldn't create such a flawless system with foresight stretching backward like that.

There was another detail that bothered every investigator:

No one in the entire Scott family history had ever been named Liam. Not even once or in dozens of years.

Yet suddenly, a "Liam Scott" appeared out of nowhere to inherit a financial foundation that looked like it had been built for him before he existed.

They refused to believe it was coincidence.

Because for people at the top — heads of state, intelligence chiefs, billionaire families — coincidence was a lie for children.

One coincidence was normal. Two was suspicious. Three was manipulation. More than that meant someone had engineered the outcome.

And Liam's existence was built on too many coincidences to count.

They even checked the lives of the people listed as his parents. On paper, it looked clean, but investigators couldn't accept it.

The man listed as Liam's father was adopted into the Scott family—and he was the only son of adoptive parents who had no relatives. .

That alone sent every intelligence analyst into deeper paranoia. It meant the entire family line leading to Liam was a closed loop: no uncles, no cousins, no extended branches.

There was nothing to trace, no loose ends to tug at. Everything was simply too clean.

The woman listed as his mother provided them with nothing useful. She lived an ordinary life, with no suspicious ties, or financial trails or strange connections. Her presence in Liam's background was almost frustrating in its simplicity.

To investigators, this was not normal. It was precise. And that was the problem.

If those two were really his parents, why were they not in his current life? Why was there no modern link between him and them? Why did every detail about his childhood look like something drawn perfectly on paper?

They reached only one conclusion:

Liam Scott wasn't an ordinary person, and his "background" was a shield. A crafted identity built by someone, or some group, with the power to edit history in plain sight.

But that only created more questions.

Who exactly is Liam Scott?

Who built his foundation?

What do they want?

What is their real objective?

Why reveal him now?

Why at this point in history?

Why during a global race for technological dominance?

They all asked these questions. None of them had answers and they hated that.

Because to people like them, the unknown was the most dangerous thing in the world. They are more dangerous than known threats.

***

The Rolls Royce slowed as it approached a traffic light. Liam's gaze drifted over the skyline as he exhaled softly.

He wasn't annoyed by the meeting, or the suspicion. He expected all of it.

The world's most powerful people were watching him like hawks, waiting for him to slip or reveal a loose end they could grab.

But Liam knew too much about how they operated. And he had Lucy, Bellemere Family Office and JP Morgan to help him take care of everything that should ever come up.

"Sir?" Clara's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Liam turned slightly. "Yes?"

Clara opened her tablet. "I've arranged the documents the Saudi officials sent. They want you to consider beginning early-stage investments in three sectors: aviation, defense technology and urban infrastructure. They are willing to grant partial ownership of two projects if you're open to deeper collaboration."

"They won't get it," Liam said calmly.

Clara nodded. "I'll reply politely and delay any commitments."

"Good," Liam said.

He leaned back into his seat again, tapping his fingers lightly on his knee.

"Are you worried, sir?" Clara asked softly.

"No," Liam said with a small smile. "Just bored. There are far more important things waiting for me."

"Your friends?" Mason asked.

"Yes," Liam answered without hesitation. "We have plans to game today. I don't want to keep them waiting."

Clara and Mason exchanged a small glance. They found it amusing that the priority of the world's most mysterious young billionaire, right now was going home to play games with his friends.

It reminded them that beneath everything, he was still an eighteen-year-old boy.

***

The Rolls Royce entered Downtown Dubai and turned toward the Burj Khalifa.

At the base of the tower, guards recognized the vehicle and allowed it through without hesitation. The convoy drove into the underground parking area.

When the car stopped, Liam stepped out, smoothing his shirt lightly, before walking to the private elevator. He stepped into it and the doors slid shut.