His Son. Her Secret.

Chapter 24

“Hey! What’s the meaning of this? I paid for an hour!” a man in a cheap suit shouted. He was already standing, arms thrown up in the air in clear frustration.

A dramatic hush fell over the small cafe, every head lifting to catch the scene. Beth sighed inwardly and brought up the window on her computer, already knowing what she would find.

Yep, it was exactly what she’d guessed. “It’s been an hour,” she stated. Seriously, she was always perplexed when the customers complained and thought they’d been short-changed on time or something. Especially when there was a digital clock counting down in the corner of their screens. It wasn’t as though they were caught off guard before the screen went dark.

But it looked like this particular man had more beef on his plate because he didn’t sit down and simply pay for another hour. “You can’t count that as an hour. Your internet is so slow, I barely did anything.”

Beth highly doubted it. Furthermore, she had a pretty good feeling she knew what the man had been using their internet for. It was the only reason people ever picked the computer in the far right corner with the monitor facing the wall. She had told Belle to block all traffic from such sites, but the female argued that it brought in money. Beth guessed the woman was right because the man had an hour of ogling R-rated content and wasn’t satisfied.

“Sir, you paid for an hour, and you got an hour,” Avi called back from a nearby table without even looking up from the books spread before her. “Nobody promised it would be a fast hour.”

A few people from the other computers laughed. These were their regular patrons who didn’t mind the slow network or the smell of dust and overheated electronics. They just appreciated their little cozy cafe, which had the best rates in the damn neighborhood.

Finally seeing he wasn't going to get his way, the man grumbled about another hour and sat back down. Well, that wasn’t so hard. Beth stifled a snort, barely containing an eye roll as she reactivated his account from her computer so he could continue his very important work.

Completely ignoring the drama from her position at the snack shelf, Mal reorganized packets of chips and biscuits with the kind of aggression usually reserved for personal enemies. Every few seconds, though, she stopped to glare at a teenage boy who kept opening the outdated refrigerator without buying anything.

“Don't even think about it,” she finally snapped when the boy made his sixth trip.

Face red, the teenager quickly closed the fridge and walked back to his brother, who only glared at him. Nobody else paid mind or felt sorry for him being on the receiving end of Mal’s aggression because they all knew his brother had given him the money to buy what he wanted, but the boy was hoping to steal instead and keep the money for his little female friend who worked in the bakery down the street. It wasn’t the first time he was pulling the stunt. Every business owner on the block knew his tricks.

Behind the counter with Beth, Belle quietly chuckled before she turned her attention back to her own work. She sat cross-legged on a chair with the crushed remains of a desktop computer spread around her like a dissected body. Tiny screws littered the counter beside her while she muttered under her breath at the motherboard.

“Oh, baby, you deserved better than this,” she whispered to the machine mournfully.

Unable to help herself, Beth snorted and then pretended to cough into her fist.

But she wasn’t fooling anyone. Belle pointed a screwdriver at her without looking up. “Don’t laugh. Unlike people, computers only disappoint me occasionally.”

“That’s … Very comforting,” Beth deadpanned.

Her friend only huffed. It made Beth smile. This was nice. For the first time in days, things almost felt normal. Almost. But it was better than the tension they had been drowning in since she rescued Kaleth from the warehouse.

Now if only she weren’t actively trying to tempt the universe to sabotage them.

Beth winced, guilt wrapping itself around her spine like a snake. There she was, seated at the front counter, pretending to work while an untouched spreadsheet remained open on her screen. In reality, she had three tabs open behind it. And all of them were about Santiago Burns.

With just a click of her finger, an article filled the screen. It showed a sharp picture of the man leaving a charity gala months ago. He looked exactly the way the media always described him: cold, polished, and untouchable. The headline called him ruthless. Another referred to him as a corporate predator with no heart.

Beth frowned. None of the articles matched the man she had seen carrying Kaleth out of his home. How did a heartless man kiss his son’s head absentmindedly in broad daylight? He had done it as easily as breathing, so she knew it hadn’t been fake.

But could she have been wrong? Maybe she was so desperate to see that Kaleth had a better deal than she ever had that her mind played tricks on her.

Her fingers moved over the keyboard again. More articles filled the screen: k********g Investigation Continues. Burns Security Increased After Incident. Anonymous Sources Claim Business Rivals Involved in the a*******n of his son.

None of it particularly answered her concerns. Worse, they didn’t answer the other question that had rented space in her head without permission. Who had been in the other black SUV following Santiago?

The way Beth saw it, there were two possibilities. Either it was the kidnappers back to make another attempt, or the vehicle had something to do with the client who’d hired them to steal the drive. They could be one and the same or not. Either way, it was bad, and she felt compelled to solve the mystery.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much she could do in terms of research. She couldn’t deep dive into Santiago’s life or hack CCTV to get an image of the driver from the vehicle. Her computer skills ended at changing passwords and illegally streaming movies. Belle would’ve found answers in minutes, but Beth couldn’t ask her friend to do this. At least, not without confessing everything, and that wasn’t an option.

Opening another article, Beth nearly choked on her drink. This article claimed Santiago staged his own son’s k********g for sympathy.

“Idiots,” she gritted through her teeth, feeling the urge to slap whatever fool had even thought to write this stupidity.

A shadow suddenly leaned over the counter beside her. “What idiots?”

Beth jerked so hard she nearly spilled her drink all over the keyboard in her attempt to close the tab. She managed, but the damage was done. Beth knew it the moment her gaze met her friend’s suspicious one.

Her heart racing, Beth tried to defuse the situation with humor. “You move as quietly as a burglar.”

It was weak, so she wasn’t surprised when Belle ignored that completely. Instead, her friend’s eyes narrowed at the screen. Then they widened. “Oh, my God.”