Page 2 of Hacker Unknown

“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 kidnapperswould 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.”

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