Hacker Betrayed (White Hat Security Book 11), page 1
Hacker Betrayed
LINZI BAXTER
WHITE HAT PRESS, LLC
Contents
1. Mia
2. Dr. Paxton Renolds
3. Mia
4. Paxton
5. Mia
6. Ashlyn
7. Paxton
8. Mia
9. Paxton
10. Mia
11. Paxton
12. Mia
13. Paxton
14. Mia
15. Mia
16. Paxton
17. Paxton
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About the Author
Hacker Betrayed
White Hat Security, Book 11
Copyright © 2022 by Linzi Baxter
Kindle Edition
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
CHAPTER 1
Mia
I stared at the cursive C in the middle of the ten-foot iron gate which led to my family's estate. Dried blood covered my hands as I pressed my thumb to the security panel. The probability of my fingerprint working was slim. I hadn't spoken to my family or entered the thirty thousand square foot mansion in twelve years.
The screen flashed green and displayed my picture. If I weren't on a mission to find my son, I would stop and analyze the fact my parents had a photo from the farmers market from six months ago.
I eased off the brake and drove up the long, winding driveway. The closer I got to the house, the harder my heart beat against my chest. Guards dressed in tactical gear prowled along the property line with assault rifles. My mother, Catherine Clark, stood at the top of the steps wearing a long, flowing white dress, her blonde hair curled in perfect ringlets down her back. Everything she did was calculated, and her warm smile only made for a false sense of safety.
My Glock tucked in its holster and the knife strapped to my ankle were the only items that truly made me feel safe. Too bad I hadn't had them growing up as the daughter of the most feared crime family in Miami.
Before I exited the car, I pulled my silver bracelet off my wrist and placed the piece of jewelry under the seat in case I didn't make it out of the house alive. My boss would search for me when I didn't arrive at Club Rose for my assignment, and the first thing he would do would be to pull my GPS location.
Mom hadn't moved from her spot at the top of the stairs, but her smile had slipped into a scowl. I slid out of my car and tugged the light jacket I had on tighter around my body. The sun had dropped below the tree line, the Florida heat beat down on me, but I'd kept the covering on to hide my gun and the blood on my shirt.
"Dalia, honey, it's been too long. Come here and let me see you," my mom said.
I climbed up the steps but didn't walk into her open arms. "This isn't a social call. I'm here to speak with Father, and then I will be on my way."
From the outside, many thought my mother was the sweetest woman. She sat on the board of many foundations and my family donated their dirty money to those causes. My parents had fostered many kids over the years, but never adopted one. Many of them, worked while still in the system for Dad and his multiple illegal businesses. If I had to guess a few still worked for him.
Mom was just as evil as my father, and sometimes I thought she was worse. Mom grew up in the mob and married my father, a low-level enforcer, but the two of them took over for my grandfather.
"Your father is in a meeting. We can have a cup of tea while he finishes up work, and you can clean up." She turned and walked into the house.
I hesitated at the threshold, worried I'd made a mistake coming alone. My boss would kill me if he found out I planned to march right up to the front door of one of the crime families on the watch list. The problem was, I spent years covering my tracks, crafting a back story that never led to the Clark family. Blackwood Mercenary had dug into my family's organization over the years, but I quickly moved myself off the cases that would deal with my family. Nobody talked about Armando's dead daughter. My death was published across all the news stations, along with my late husband’s. The boat explosion gave me the perfect cover to start over. Except my father knew I didn't die that night, but they didn't want to help me. The night I begged for their assistance was the last time I saw my parents in person. But that was a long time ago. Dalia Clark died the same night her husband did.
With each step I took through the house, dread washed over me. A maid stopped and stared as we passed through the foyer and the sitting room. Mom sat on the white couch, but I stood a few feet away from the wall that had the family portrait of my mother, dad, twin brother, and two younger sisters.
"You get your stubbornness from your father," Mom huffed as she typed on her phone. "I'll have the maid bring a change of clothing and a warm cloth for you to clean the blood off your hands."
"Why bother? I know I’ll have to fight my way out of here. It's not like you and Dad haven't sent the enforcers after me over the years. I stopped counting when the number hit thirty-five. So why act like you give two shits now?” I asked.
Mom placed her phone to the side, all indignation. "If we wanted you dead, we would have had you killed years ago. I don't know why you think we are such evil people. Did I not hug you enough as a kid?"
I frowned. "You barely acknowledged our existence. Do you want me to name all the times you’ve tried to kill me in the past twelve years? I have somewhere to be and don't have all night."
"I can assure you we have never made an attempt on your life. You chose to walk away from us years ago. We did you a favor and let the media run the story about your death. I was the one who had to plan your funeral."
I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes. They hadn't allowed anyone but immediate family at my wake, which meant they did jack shit. I was positive she didn't even buy a headstone, but leave it to my mother to turn everything back to how much she had to suffer because of something one of her kids did.
"Things have changed here over the years. So, either you're not as tied in with Dad's business as much as you used to be? Or does he keep the part where he is trying to kill me a secret? I will give him credit for always making the attempts on my life seem like an accident."
Six months prior, I found a small bomb attached to the bottom of my SUV. I'd always checked my cars over before getting in one. People who made incendiary devices had a signature when they designed their explosives. Ted Norwood spent hours teaching me how to build bombs when I was a teen. The one wired to my vehicle had Ted's craftsmanship. Especially the homemade wires he used.
"We have no reason to kill you, dear." Mom paused when the maid entered the room carrying a tray. She handed me a cup of tea and a T-shirt. "I'm happy you are here, so we can discuss your place in the family."
I'd never wanted to see anyone under the Clark roof again. They'd sold me for an alliance on my eighteenth birthday. The only good that came out of the marriage was my son, and my husband at the bottom of the ocean. "I don't have time for this. Either I talk with Dad, or I walk out the door."
"You were always so dramatic," Mom replied as she took a sip of her tea.
"Unlike you, I give a shit when someone takes my kid." I figured my family orchestrated Lucas's kidnapping. When I uncovered the person who killed Tabitha, the woman who’d been raising my son, I wouldn't think twice as I put a bullet in their head. I'd thought I'd kept his identity a secret, but someone came after him.
Mom's brows drew together. "Son? You don't have any children, dear." Her perfectly crafted mask slipped for a second.
"You're telling me you had a picture of me in the security system from six months ago, but you didn't know I had a son?"
"She didn't know," my father announced from the doorway. "Let's talk in my study."
Armando Clark’s hair had grayed over the years and wrinkles formed next to his eyes. He had a pair of black-rimmed glasses on. One thing that hadn't changed was the designer suit my father wore like it was a uniform.
I didn't bother grabbing the clean shirt as I followed Dad through the maze of halls. Mom's heels clicked behind me as we proceeded toward his study. Dad never allowed us in his workspace when we were kids. The negotiation for my wedding was the last meeting Dad had asked me to join.
The double doors to his office were open as I followed behind. Sebastian, my twin brother, was on the couch with a glass of dark liquor. He'd rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up, and tattoos lined his forearm. I'd only seen my brother on the news over the years. We were close growing up. The first few days of my marria
His dark blue eyes were trained on me from the second I entered the room. I had the same color but wore brown contacts every day. With the plastic surgery I went through, we no longer had the same nose or even cheeks. Standing next to him nobody would realize we were twins.
"Have a seat, Dalia." Dad's baritone voice echoed through the room.
I didn't bother sitting in the chair in front of my dad's desk that he gestured to. All I wanted was answers, and as soon as I had them I would be on my way. "Where did you take my son?"
Dad leaned back and steepled his fingers together. "I have no reason to come after your son."
"I think it's because the attempts on my life didn't work, so you went after the only thing I cared about.”
"A son you barely visit?" Dad countered.
There was too much danger if Lucas's real father figured out he was alive. His existence would shift the power structure for the Calhoun family, and he’d become a target.
"I will not sit back and defend my reasoning. All I want is to find my son and never step foot inside this place again."
"You act like we are horrible people," my mom sighed. "We did everything to give you the life you deserved. It was never our choice that you walked away from everything. It was yours."
There was no point in arguing with her. She didn't understand what the arranged marriage did to me. Ruthless was too kind of a word to describe my late husband, and my parents handed me over to him with no second thoughts.
Dad pulled his black-rimmed glasses from his face and set them on his desk. "Dalia, I didn't come after your son. You decided to leave the family. We have done nothing to stop you from living your life away from here. The door has always been open, and when you are ready, there is a place for you in the organization."
"You have to be kidding me. Six months ago, one of your men put a bomb in my car. Today, the woman I pay to raise Lucas is dead. That's on me. So, who do you have coming after me?" I asked.
Dad's eyes flashed toward Sebastian, who hadn't said a word. When we were younger, my brother always said he would stand by me and protect me, but he wasn't there for the meeting where Dad handed me over to Cyrus Calhoun. He wasn't there when the beatings started.
"I could ask around." Dad paused for a second. "But you will owe me if I do this."
"I'm not the weak eighteen-year-old you sold for more power," I said, resting my hand on the butt of my gun. "I think this family owes me for the hell I went through. Or the countless times he wrapped his hands around my neck until I passed out and then remove them so I stayed alive. If I could go back and kill him with my bare hands, I would make his death as slow and painful as possible."
Mom gasped next to me. "You killed your husband?"
"Yes," I replied evenly. "And I'm going to take down everyone who had a part in Tabitha's murder, along with anyone connected to Lucas's kidnapping. The mob taught me the fundamentals of killing. The CIA perfected my skill."
"A lady doesn't talk like this," Mom rebuked.
"That's enough, Dalia." Dad stood. "I can guarantee the only order I ever gave about you was to leave you alone. Only a few people know you're alive. You’ve had so much plastic surgery, nobody can tell you're my daughter. If someone figured out your true identity, you might want to ask yourself where you made a mistake or if they learned you killed your husband."
Not a single person, because the boat blew up before they could find his poison-laced body. I was so sure my family were always the ones who came after me and took Lucas. I hadn't stopped to consider Donovan or one of his siblings might be the ones coming for vengeance. My eyes prickled with tears for a second, but I had no time for emotions. "This is a waste of my time. If you’ll contact me the moment you learn any information, I'll leave you guys off my war path, but if anyone withholds valuable details, I don't care if the person is blood or not, I'll take them out."
"Sit down, Dalia." Dad's words came out like an order.
"I don't have time for games," I said. "Unlike you and Mother, I would do anything for my son. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for him, and that includes letting someone else raise him because the possibility of someone coming after me is so high. From the moment I gazed into his eyes, I promised him he would never see this world."
My mom couldn’t contain her scoff. "You act like your life with Cyrus was so bad.”
Not caring if they saw my gun, I pulled up the back of my shirt. Cyrus's name carved into my skin was a constant reminder that my past would always haunt me. "What do you think, dear old Mom? This is only the tip of the iceberg of what I went through. So don't sit there and tell me living with him was easy. Or did Dad carve his name into your back?"
Dad ran a hand over his face. "Dalia…"
"Don't." I blinked to rid the tears from my eyes. "I'm not here to rehash the past. All I want is my son, but you guys didn't come for him. That means every second I'm here, my son is in danger."
Sebastian stood and strode toward Dad's desk. "Dalia, why don't we take a ride? I have an idea of who might have taken the job."
"Go with your brother," Dad said. "A lot has changed over the years. Nothing I say will make up for the scars on your body, but come back after you get your son. I would like to meet him and have dinner with my daughter."
All I did was nod. I had no plan on making good on the request. Mom opened her mouth, but I held my hand up and rushed through the house with Sebastian only a few steps behind me. I climbed into my car and pulled out my phone. The only text was from my boss reminding me about my mission. I was thirty minutes late, but Lucas was my only concern.
The passenger side door opened, and Sebastian slid in.
"Where?" I asked as I put the car in drive.
"Only one group would kidnap a kid and kill a woman. They aren't part of our organization, Dalia. They run their jobs out of a house in the Overtown neighborhood." Sebastian paused. "There are things about your past I can't talk about. It's not my story to tell..."
Overtown, Miami was one of the neighboring cities of Little Havana. It seemed like all the bad bordering cities were some of the worst in Miami.
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel, not wanting to listen to the excuses for why my brother never came for me. "All I want is my son to be safe," I shot back.
He pulled out his phone and tapped against the screen. A second later, it dinged. "My connection said the group I'm talking about has recently done a job. These guys are dangerous, Dalia."
"Mia," I corrected him. "Dalia died in the boat crash."
"Fine, Mia. Why don't you let me get a few people together and we'll search for your son? You don't know what you are getting into."
I wasn't the sister he grew up with. I'd spent time in the Navy and the CIA. There were crimes and heinous acts I witnessed over my career. "Don't worry about me. If you want backup for yourself, I'm okay with you sitting back. I'm sure Dad doesn't want his golden child hurt. Who would take over the family business?" Even I heard the sneer in my voice but couldn’t bring myself to care.
Sebastian sighed. "I'm going with you. This crew uses the same house because they know nobody will mess with them. I was just thinking the rescue mission might be easier if we have a few people."
It would be more people I didn't know. The possibility of my brother leading me into an ambush was still high. I wouldn't trust anyone he called. "I'm going alone."
He didn't say anything else as I weaved the vehicle through traffic for the next thirty minutes to a run-down neighborhood. Sebastian pointed out the yellow house as I drove by.
"You don't have to come with me," I said to Sebastian as I unbuckled my seat belt and ignored the beep from my phone. I was late for our meeting and if I answered my boss’s call, I would need to answer questions I had no time for. Getting Lucas back was my priority.
