Hacker Unknown (White Hat Security #14)

1. Sonali

Chapter 1

Sonali

The heels of my Versace slingback pumps sank into the wet, soft grass, each step daring the world to notice me. Lady Mary Cemetery was the last place I should have been, but staying away was a betrayal to the person who I owed everything. Attending Doctor Devon Bailey's funeral was a reckless gamble—one that could unravel everything I'd worked so hard to protect. Eight long years had passed since our last embrace in Paris, his whispered promise still echoing in my ears. My secret was safe, and no one would come looking for me. Now, as I weaved between the headstones, I could only hope that his vow died with him.

Anxiety coursed through my veins as I spotted the empty seat near the casket. Though the chair wasn’t what had my heart beating three times its normal speed. Benson and Camila Monette occupied the seats to the left. My former best friend and fiancé. They had every right to be at the funeral, but I didn’t know if I was ready to face my past.

I could stand on the edge of the crowd which would be the cowardly way out and give them more power over me. No, it was time to face my past. I breathed in the hot sticky air and held my breath for thirty seconds and repeated the exercises two more times. When my heart stopped feeling like it was about to break my rib cage, I walked along the edge of chairs and slid into my seat to the right of Benson. He leaned over to speak, but I was saved by the pastor thanking everyone for coming.

My eyes filled with tears as I stared at the deep cherry oak casket ignoring the man next to me as the pastor read from a leather-bound bible. His words muffled into the background as I remembered when Devon told me I was going to live with him. Unlike the sunny day in Florida now, it was pouring rain as he picked me up from my elementary school in the heart of Washington, D.C. and informed me my mother had died. Most kids at the age of eight would be at a loss if they were told their parent died. Except I wasn’t a normal child, and my mother had multiple sit-down conversations with me explaining how things would proceed if something ever happened to her. The day went exactly like she had told me many times over during my childhood if she died or disappeared.

Devon had placed my pink go-bag from the back of my closet and my one stuffed unicorn in the seat next to me as we drove to an airport and boarded a private plane for Paris. Until now, I hadn’t stepped back in the United States.

“Ali, did you want to say something?” Benson squeezed my arm. The gesture was supposed to be nice, but it felt like a snake bite. And I hated that he used my childhood nickname.

I pulled my arm from his grasp and shook my head. Devon Bailey meant the world to me, and I wasn’t sure how I could express that in front of all these people at his funeral. Years of hiding didn’t make public speaking easy.

Camila leaned over Benson’s lap. “I am sure out of all of us, Devon would want you to be the one to speak.”

In the hot Florida sun, chills ran down my spine as I glanced into Camila’s gray eyes. The sweet, fun best friend I remembered was replaced with a cold, Botox-filled smile.

“Maybe later at the house with fewer people,” I whispered back.

Benson didn’t even try to hide rolling his eyes. “Do you still think you are better than us, Ali?”

“You know I never thought that or said those words. Is now the time to have this fight?”

Hushed whispers around us reminded me we were not alone.

An older lady with long gray hair and a diamond ring that shone in the sun stood up from the front row. Benson jumped from his chair to steady her as she walked to the podium. I sighed and leaned back in the chair, relieved someone else planned to say something, so I wouldn’t have to get up.

The woman’s voice cracked when she spoke Devon’s name. “Devon and I met late in life, but I wouldn’t change our time together for anything. Seeing you all here would mean so much to him. His years of research touched the lives of so many.” She paused and dabbed her eye. “If it wasn’t for his research, I wouldn’t be standing here …”

Devon had stopped his research after my mother died. He didn’t want to put me through more lab tests. But her statement could only mean he lied to me. My vision blackened for a moment, wondering how many times he had lied, claiming the tests of my blood were to check my health. Even after he moved back to the United States, he’d asked for me to send two vials a year to keep medical records and to make sure I was okay.

Benson nudged my side, and I snapped out of my panic to hear the end of her speech.

“Sonali, he loved you as if you were his own daughter. Our home is covered in your paintings. He always showed them to everyone who came to visit, praising how talented his daughter was. Even with all the achievements he received over his career, he always claimed you were the thing he held closest to his heart. Benson, you already know he loved you like a son …”

Benson had come to live with me and Devon a year after we moved to Paris. Growing up, we never acted like brother and sister. Even at a young age, we proclaimed we were boyfriend and girlfriend. The relationship lasted until we were twenty-one, and I came home early from work and found Benson and my then-best friend Camila in bed together.

The pastor read Psalm 23 to end the funeral. Before I could stand, the woman who spoke earlier said my name and headed straight for me.

“Sonali, I am so glad you made it.” She reached out and gripped my hand harder than I expected. Her long red nails dug into my skin and didn’t match her tone. “With you here we can settle the estate today. Everyone is heading over to our house to talk about my late husband and meet with his attorney.”

“My flight just arrived only an hour ago. I need to run back to the hotel, and shower, before coming over to the house.”

When Benson stood, he towered over me. “Ali, stop making everyone cater to you. If you had arrived sooner, this wouldn’t be a problem. Everything is already scheduled, and you need to head to the house now for the planned lunch.” He didn’t wait for me to respond before he turned to the older lady whose name I still hadn’t caught. “Camila and I will bring the car over to pick you up and take you home. You know I am always here for you, Suzanne.”

She released her grip and dabbed her eyes with a black handkerchief. “Thank you, Benson, Devon knew how much you helped. I am positive you will get what you deserve. Not sure why Sonali is requested for the Will reading.”

The sweet woman who gave the speech a moment ago was nowhere to be found. This woman was a bitch.

Benson nodded at Suzanne and glanced at me one more time. “It’s best you ride with us to make sure you aren’t late.”

“I will get there on my own.” Before any of them could say another word, I turned on my sunken heel and walked toward the row of cars. My hands hadn’t stopped shaking as I yanked my phone from my purse and tapped the Uber app. Seeing Devon and Camila plus meeting Suzanne for the first time had thrown my instincts off so much, I missed the slender man dressed in a black suit who stepped out from behind a tree and grabbed my arm.

“What—?” He pulled me behind the large oak tree and slid his cold hand over my mouth.

“I won’t hurt you,” his silky deep voice whispered in my ear. At least the guy about to kidnap me, had a soothing tone.

I huffed under his hand and bared my teeth to bite.

His chuckle was like a calming drug to me, and I stopped myself from biting his hand. “I guess that is what most kidnappers would say,” he mumbled, “the people here are dangerous. You aren’t safe around any of them. Everyone here is after Devon’s research. We both know that will put you in the most danger.”

I pulled his hand from my mouth and spun around to stare at the man who knew me and possibly my deepest secret. “And who are you?”

He blinked his gray-blue eyes with a black rim. I couldn’t help but stare; they were like mine and my mother’s.

“Who I am doesn’t matter. You put yourself in danger the second you stepped foot on American soil. Devon had always made strict instructions that if he passed, you were not to come to the funeral. I still don’t know how you found out, but that doesn’t matter now. You caused a chain reaction. Reach out to a company called AA Security before you do anything. From what I know, they will protect you without having to pay.”

“Sorry, not sure I should take advice from you either. This could be a setup.”

The tall man glanced over his shoulder. “God, you are so much like her. I will find you again, soon. Don’t go to that house and don’t get yourself killed until I reach back out to you.”

The bastard left me with more questions to ask, but it was like he disappeared into thin air. I hadn’t heard about the funeral until an unknown user on Facebook sent me an obituary link less than twenty-four hours ago. I jumped on the first flight I could find from Paris to Fort Lauderdale.

Waiting around for the mystery man to reappear would not give me any answers. I clicked on the Uber app and requested a car. Time to find out if Devon left me any clues to what the hell was going on.

When Devon left Paris, he gave me the villa we lived in, claiming it was purchased with my mother’s money. Devon never acted like he had money or wealth, but the large gates the Uber driver drove through and the mansion at the end of the road screamed billionaire.

Cars lined the long circular driveway. Two young men ran around parking vehicles. My driver slowed to a stop, and I stepped out. A couple wrinkled their noses in my direction as I walked up the marble staircase to the front entrance. The ten-foot doors were pushed open, and an older man with gray hair dressed in a tailored suit directed people into the home.

When I reached the door and started to follow the guests, the butler grabbed my elbow. “Sonali?”

“Yes? How do you know my name?”

He dropped his hand. “Devon has photos of you in his office. You put yourself in danger coming here.”

“You’re not the first person to say that to me. Except Devon told me years ago I was no longer in danger.”

The older man pinched his brow. “Because he didn’t want you to live in fear. Since you are here it is best for you to meet with the lawyer and then you need to head back to Paris. Don’t even stop at the hotel. Go straight to the airport.”

I opened my mouth to ask a question.

“Not now. You can’t trust anyone. Head to the left; at the end of the hall is an office. The attorney is already there. Suzanne and Benson are not your friends. Trust no one.”

Despite looking to be on the frail side, the older man sure did have some strength. He shoved me toward the hall as I heard him greet Suzanne and Benson behind me.

My heels clicked against the marble floors. Ignoring the muffled voices behind me, I continued toward the large double doors at the end of the hall. With each step, I wondered how much the stranger at the cemetery knew about my condition. He said the name of a security firm; I couldn’t quite remember if he had said AF Security or AP Security. Maybe if I made it back to the hotel alive, I would Google it. Because a flight straight back to Paris tonight or tomorrow was not on my list of things to do.

A bald man sat behind a large glass desk. In the center of the desk was a stack of papers. To the left of the papers was two framed pictures. One was of me taken a month ago at one of my art shows. I had no idea how he could have it. More and more questions came to mind, but the biggest was how the hell did three pieces of my art end up on the wall in his office. They were from the same show as the photo. I preferred to just paint and not deal with any of the other parts of the business. Which might be how he acquired them without my knowledge.

I would have sent him the paintings for free. Instead, he had to have paid close to a hundred thousand dollars. My work was sought after, and I never understood why people paid what they did for it.

“Sonali, I am Thomas Gallaway, Devon’s longtime lawyer. I am not sure you remember me, but I assisted when Devon adopted you. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

Much of the year after my mom died was a blur to me. “I am sorry I don’t remember you. Is it okay if I sit here?”

“Yes, have a seat. We are waiting for Benson, Suzanne, and Sawyer.”

While we waited, I pulled up a tabloid site on my phone called Snapshot Weekly. Celebrity gossip was my guilty pleasure. A large headline read, ‘Billionaire Asher Ross and CJ caught with female.’ I went to scroll past the article, but the subheading listed the woman’s name, one I’d thought about over the years but never reached out to, Zayla Solace. I had only seen images of her as a child from her father. Another person I hadn’t seen since I left the United States. My finger clicked the link, and I read through the article about Billionaire Asher Ross, owner of AA Security. I read that a second time, thinking back to the stranger at the cemetery. Before I could read more, Benson and Camila walked into the room arm in arm. Benson sat in the other chair, and Camila sat across his lap. Suzanne was the next to enter and took the third chair.

Benson waved his hand at the attorney. “We are ready to start.”

Thomas set his pen down. “Not yet, we are waiting on one more.”

A throat cleared behind me. “Sorry I am late.”

I didn’t need to turn around to know who stood behind me. It was the man from the cemetery. At least now I had a name, Sawyer. He walked to the side of the room and leaned against the white wall. Our eyes connected for a moment, and he glared back at me. His lips moved, and I guessed he mumbled something about not listening.

“Now we can start,” Thomas stated.

“I want to know who he is,” Benson cut in.

“My name is Sawyer Ledger, and I was summoned to this meeting. I was under the impression only beneficiaries are allowed,” Sawyer stated.

Thomas nodded. “Yes, I was getting to that. Camila, I know you are Benson’s wife, but you are not listed, so I am going to have to ask you to leave.”

Camila crossed her arms over her chest. “No, I need to be here to support my husband.”

“That is not a valid reason. I cannot start until you leave.”

Benson whispered something in her ear. She got up and stormed out of the office.

“I know this is hard for all of us. Devon meant something different to each person in this room.” Thomas flipped the first page of the will. “The entire estate is worth approximately one billion dollars. A majority of the estate is going to charity.”

“What?” Suzanne screeched. “I am his wife. Everything should be going to me.”

Thomas raised his brow. “I would ask everyone to keep their comments to themselves until we finish. Will readings are not normally done this way anymore, but Devon asked that I handle everything a certain way. Sonali being here changes a couple of aspects, but I need everyone to stay quiet until asked to speak.”

Everyone in the room nodded. My eyes were trained on the stack of papers on the desk, but I wanted to glance over to the side to figure out who the hell this Sawyer guy was. Did he not want me to show up because he wanted my piece of the inheritance? I had money; I wanted to go back in time and see Devon again. Have afternoon tea together and talk about anything.

“Suzanne, I will start with your cut of the estate. You will receive this house only. Everything to run the house has been paid for until you pass, then the house will go to charity, and you are not allowed to sell it. Along with the house, you will receive an allowance of ten million each year. If you agree, I need you to sign here.”

Her hand clutched her throat. “I can’t possibly live off that. I refuse.”

Thomas shrugged. “There is a clause in the will. Anyone who refuses or fights the will forfeits their inheritance.”

She started to bawl, and my dislike for the woman increased. At the funeral, she cried some, but nothing like getting told she couldn’t fight the inheritance.

“Fine,” she grabbed the pen and scribbled her name.

Thomas took a picture of the signed document and placed it to the side. “You can leave now.”

“I want to hear what he’s giving her,” she spat out.

“That won’t happen. There are specific instructions; you need to leave.”

Benson reached over and grasped her hand. “I will tell you.”

She finally got up and left.

“Next is Benson?—”

“I can wait until they both go,” Benson cut in.

Thomas sighed. “You don’t listen at all. Per the instructions, you are next. This statement is directly from Devon. ‘Benson, I tried to raise you as my son. I’m not sure where I went wrong. You were not as cunning as you thought. Those companies you embezzled from and tried to pin on others are all documented. Your portion of the inheritance is going to fix the mistakes you made. Along with my funds, you have six months to clean up the mess you created. If you do not fix everything with the people you wronged, the information I have retained from my private investigator will be turned over to the police. I hope you can find your way, son.’”

“I don’t believe this. Someone filled his head with lies,” Benson jumped up from his seat. “Since I am not getting anything, I might as well contest this will.”

“You are welcome to do that. Just so you know, if you do the information will be turned over to the authorities.”

Benson rolled his eyes. “There is nothing.” He stormed out of the office.

This was crazy, and I hoped I went last because I sure as hell wanted to know what Sawyer was receiving. Or who the hell he was to Devon.

“Sonali, he trusted you more than anyone in the world. He was so proud of you and everything you accomplished. He wrote you a letter, but only for you to see.” Thomas slid the envelope across the table. Thomas continued, “Devon kept lots of secrets over the years, many we fought over. A few times a year, he would fly to Paris.”

“But—”

“He worried it would put you in danger if you met. There are many people who would still want to turn you into a lab experiment. You coming to the United States put your life at further risk.”

“I tried to tell her,” Sawyer grumbled. “She seems stubborn, just like?—”

“She is independent and doesn’t know us. He left you his home in Paris, which will be safer than your villa, along with a trust of two hundred million dollars.”

Anger settled deep in my gut. Money could not fix the lies of omission. “What about my medical records? I have a right to those.”

Thomas slumped into his chair. “I agree, but it wasn’t my choice. Your records will be in safe hands.”

“The veil over my entire life was just stripped, and the one thing that makes me the most vulnerable is my medical data. From what it sounds like, he continued to use it. How am I supposed to live knowing I constantly have to look over my shoulder?”

Sawyer stepped forward and pressed his hand to my shoulder. “Until Devon’s death is investigated more, I think it is best you lay low. When everything is worked out and I know it is safe, I will come to Paris and explain.”

“Or kill me?”

His eyes softened. “That I could never do. By the time I finish telling you everything, you will hate me. I have my reasons.”

I slid the white envelope into my purse. “Honestly, I don’t want to see either of you two again. I don’t need Devon’s money or the house. Donate it.”

“The house would be safer for you. Stay in it until you find something else. The money will be put into a trust for when you decide you want it.”

A single tear slid down my cheek and I didn’t bother to wipe it away. “Don’t contact me unless you have all the data compiled about my blood.” I rose from the chair and turned to leave.

“Wait,” Sawyer’s voice dipped deep.

“Let me see your phone.” Like an idiot, I handed it over. His fingers typed across the screen. “I put a game on your phone. It is called Assassin Annihilation. Join City 333 and look for a player called Ninja Ned. That is the best way to communicate.”

“Don’t hold your breath, I don’t plan to send you anything.” I yanked my phone back. Normal people use text messaging; this guy worried me.

In one day, I found out the man I thought was my world had lied to me for years and left a mess of my life. All I wanted was a pint of chocolate ice cream and a bubble bath. This day could not get any worse. As if the universe listened to my thoughts, it threw down another challenge card.

Benson and Camila were at the front door of the house. Camila rushed up and pointed her finger in my face. “You did this all.”

Benson pulled Camila back. “All you have to do is tell me where the research is.”

“The only person that deserves that research is me. What makes you think I would give it to you if I had it?”

Benson stepped closer. “For my years of having to sleep with you, I deserve it.”

Years after I caught Benson cheating on me, I wondered if he stayed with me all because he knew how valuable I was. “You were only allowed to do that because I saved your life.”

Devon had used my blood to cure Benson’s leukemia. My blood was the cure for many illnesses. I wasn’t created because my parents had sex. My mother’s research focused on creating a human that would never get sick or be able to catch any type of illness. I still had never seen the research on how she did it. From what Devon had told me years after I was born, she tested my blood and the results proved her concept a reality. It was when I was three that she started to experiment with my blood samples to try and cure others who were sick. Her work was government funded. When high ranking officials found out about her research, they had wanted to keep me in the lab, but my mom refused to help, and I wasn’t sure how. Depending on how sick someone was it could take two pints of my blood to create the remedy. Which puzzled me on how Devon had cured Suzanne when I only sent a couple vials a year. When they had taken my blood for Benson, I remembered I was tired for a few days.

“Once again throwing your gift in my face.”

I never considered what my blood could do as a gift. To me it was a curse. People died around me all the time and I could easily save them. Maybe it makes me selfish to want to live.

The butler cut in. “This is not the time to fight.”

I used the distraction to slip out of the house and slide into a cab that dropped off two guests.

Benson screamed, “This is not over.”

Ignoring the threat, I turned to the taxi driver and asked to be taken to the Ross Hotel.

I leaned my head back against the seat as he headed toward the hotel. My flight back to Paris wasn’t for another two weeks. I planned to visit my mother’s grave; one I had never even seen. Devon didn’t let me go to her funeral.

After today I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay in the United States for the two weeks. I pulled up the airline app and searched for flights home. The price wasn’t the issue, but the gnawing feeling deep in my stomach stopped me from changing my ticket. As the driver weaved through the streets of Fort Lauderdale, I wondered how Devon had kept so much from me. Sawyer seemed to have answers. My finger hovered over the game he downloaded. This was probably a huge mistake. I tapped the screen, and a ninja jumped across the screen before the signup page populated. I answered each question with false information. I was about to enter City 333 when the driver pulled up to the hotel. I closed out the game and headed to my room.

A long bubble bath was all I needed. I swiped the card against the door, and the green light flashed and stepped into my room. “Fuck,” I mumbled. My entire suitcase was scattered across the floor. I walked farther into the room to see what the extent of the damage. My laptop was propped open on the bed and logged in. All the contents of my backpack lay strewn across the bed. I quickly scanned the room everything looked to still be here, but one thing.

I frantically picked up each piece of clothing off the floor. Ran my hand through the bottom of my backpack; it was empty. I dropped to my knees on the floor and shifted through all my carry-on items. My stomach somersaulted. Someone had stolen my passport. No matter how many people told me to head back to Pairs, because the United States wasn’t safe. I couldn’t. I was stuck and still unsure who to trust.