He’s right. I can’t afford to be picky. “My brothers will know you’re helping me.”
“Yes, it’s not something I’m hiding. Again, this is a favor I’m doing for your mother, not them. We all know that when it comes to your mother, they’ll do anything and agree to anything.”
I can’t argue with that. I catch the waitress’s attention and point at my drink. I can feel Cam’s eyes on me, judging me, just like everyone else. He’s about to say something when my drink arrives. Without a second thought, I drink it all. I look up and see him glaring at me.
“Do you have a problem?” I ask, irritated.
“No.”
“If that’s all, I actually need to be somewhere.” I’m lying because I can’t stand the judgmental look on his face. All he does is nod.
“Well, don’t let me stop you. Unlike you, I’d rather take my time and enjoy my meal, so I’ll be staying. You can leave.”
Did he just shoo me away? He’s such a fucking dick. Standing with sharp, forced grace, I’m ready to leave. I need to get out of here. The warm buzz of the alcohol is setting in as I walk to the door. It takes all my focus to ensure I don’t falter in my steps. I’m internally berating myself for drinking more. Didn’t I learn my lesson after blacking out? Do I ever?
Miles
Chapter 3
I look at my computer screen and see Veronica Kayde, better known as the pain in my ass. She’s thanking the movers who just delivered her new furniture. That’s a huge accomplishment for someone who doesn’t have a job and lives off her parents’ money. I’ve been watching her, no, babysitting her, for years. When I started working for Ian and Gabe Kayde, it was my number-one job. Because if anything, Veronica is what I call job security. There’s always a mess to clean up when it comes to her.
That woman has made me pull out all my hacker tricks. From breaking into all her social media accounts to blocking dating apps, which were a lot. The last one is per her overprotective brothers’ request. There is merit to their concerns. I’ve seen the men and women Veronica has casually dated because they don’t last long. It’s apparent they’re only after two things—money and recognition for being with aKayde. Not only is she rebellious, but she has an inability to stay out of trouble; she’s a magnet for it.
I take off my glasses after looking at the screen nonstop for hours, combing through the dark web. Months ago photographs of her popped up on the dark web. I managed to take them down, but I know they have been seen by countless eyes. It seems that someone has it out for Princesa, but that’s nothing new when you’re part of one of the wealthiest families in the world. There’s another side to her family, a darker side, that she’s kept from. I don’t know which side, if not both, has put a target on her back, but this feels personal.
Earlier this year, two lowlifes pretended to be her friends only to try to blackmail her with photos they took of her in a dressing room. Big brother, Ian, and their cousin, Caleb, took care of the men. I deleted any digital proof that she knew the blackmailers, and it’s as if it never happened.
Besides the dressing room photos, none of the others were recent; they’re of a younger Veronica, before I accepted the job. It took me a while, but I traced the IP address, when I sent the cavalry, whoever was responsible was long gone. They knew we were coming, so that means they have eyes on the family. Some photographs took me to Veronica’s “friend,” Tabitha, who was paid a lot of money in exchange. When Tabitha realized she was caught, she sang like a canary and provided the email where she sent the photos, along with the account the money was paid from. Tabitha, well, she got what was coming for her. Nothing a good corporate sabotage couldn’t solve. Those are my favorites: dismantling from within, piece by piece. The sad part is that Tabitha doesn’t need the money. When you do what I do, it’s easy to tear apart someone’s life.
I love what I do, but when I need a piece of home, I come to Colombia. Where my mother was born, and where I feel the closest to her. I push through the dark memories. Growing up, my home base was divided between the United States and Colombia. Being in this line of work wasn’t what I thought I’d be doing, but once I started, I couldn’t stop, and I don’t intend to. I hear a knock on the office door, and I look up to see Tia Susana standing in the doorway.
“Mijo, tienes que descansar.” She reminds me that I need to rest. We both know I get lost in my work, and it can be hours before I take a break. I get hyperfixated on a task, which I credit to why I’m so successful in this line of work.
Tia enters the office and looks around; she hates what I did to this space. I hide what I do, so she thinks I look at data all day. She doesn't know that I spent my younger years teaching myself how to hack into someone’s life and pick it apart piece by piece. That college was just an excuse for me to leave and create a different version of myself, the version that feeds the darkness inside me.
“En un momento, Tia. I’m almost done.”
"Mijo, that’s what you always say.” She’s forever taking care of me. Tia stands in the middle of the office, but her posture shifts, turning somber when her eyes land on the picture frame on my desk. It’s my mother. “Well, come downstairs and eat. I made your favorite—beef empanadas.” She walks toward the door, but I catch the quick, subtle motion of her wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. A knot tightens in my own chest; I pretend not to notice the raw display of emotion. Even after all these years, she’s still mourning, just like me.
I need some air and to rest my eyes. I take off my glasses and head to the balcony that overlooks the Colombian jungle. Inhaling sharply, theclean scent of the recent rain leaves behind a freshness that clings to my skin.
Coming home is bittersweet; it brings back memories of my parents. Memories of when I thought they were happy, when I didn’t know it was all a facade. I failed to see what was right in front of me, and my mother paid the price.
I put my glasses on again and try to get back to work for a couple more minutes. I have Veronica’s front door on the screen. It’s streaming live. There’s a man at Princesa’s front door. A son of a bitch I’d recognize anywhere. He’s so pretentious and full of himself. Then again, that’s what he says about me. He’s got a golden-boy-politician look to him. I’ve met him several times while working with the families and even helped clean up his messes. I know he’s got the babysitting duties covered for the moment, so I move to my next job.
After more hours of work, I finally join Tia in the kitchen. It’s just her and me living here, so we sit in the nook that faces the garden. This house is too big for her, but she doesn’t want to leave. She moved in years ago when I was in my teens. She took care of me; the guilt of her giving up her life for me still weighs on my shoulders. That’s why I make sure she has everything she wants and needs. It’s what my mother did, and so it’s what I’ll continue to do. I look at the woman who helped raise me. Unlike my mother, Tia Susana doesn’t like to talk about her feelings. The idea of love is absurd to her; she sees it as a weakness, and why wouldn’t she? It’s a sentiment that I agree with. Love makes people dependent and irrational.
“How is work going?” she asks in between bites.
“Busy, of course. I’m planning on traveling for a couple of weeks. Would you like to join me?” I take a breath and hope she takes me upon my offer. “Tia, I think it would be good for you to have a change of scenery.”
“No, mijo. I’m better off here. There is no need for me to go anywhere when I can take care of business from here.” I know better than to push the subject, so I move on to a different topic of discussion.
“How’s Serena?” I ask Ian Kayde. He’s on the phone updating me on the status of his girlfriend, who was recently attacked but fought her way out of the situation. Not only did she get answers she needed, but she got her revenge.
“She’s recovering, physically and emotionally.”
Ian Kayde, the CEO, heir, and killer. This is the man who cut another man into pieces and fed him to the sharks just for touching his woman. A man who, over a year ago, would call women off a list to fuck just to avoid any emotional connections. I never thought I’d see this day when Ian would willingly be on his knees for anyone. I’d like to think he stalked his way into that relationship. Ian coupled with the word “relationship” is an odd concept to grasp. How the mighty have fallen, but I don’t tell him that. He might just stab me in the leg or something.
