CHAPTER 7

NALANI

I sit back down within a second, suspicion, curiosity, and anxiety, coursing through me like a storm.

“You want to help me?” I ask Mr Pierre, and he nods.

“Why?” I cut in, not giving him a breathing moment because to him, I’m just the new partner’s wife, a stranger, who let’s not forget, yelled at him on our first meeting yesterday.

He shrugs. “Because I want to.”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you,” I say, not mincing my words. “You have no reason to help me. I just told you that a big check is going to be ripped from your company, and you want to help me rip it…because…you want to?” I scoff. “Try again.”

His facial expression falls into something serious as he responds to me. “You’re right. I am a businessman, and I don’t play about my business. But when that business is going to exploit one party, and milk the sweat and pain of a woman whose only crime is loving a man, then that check has animal dung on it, and I don’t soil myself with wealth like that,” he says, his accent as heavy as the conviction behind his words.

As for me, my mouth hangs low as I quietly listen to him go on. “And it would be cowardice on my part not to admit that I watched you yesterday, Nalani.” His voice becomes gentler, and I frown.

“What do you mean?”

“Something about you attracted your presence to me, and I saw how you were treated. I won’t rest if I can’t help you free yourself or get what you want out of this.”

“Mr Pierre,” I start, but he cuts me off in curt correction.

“Keith.”

I pause, pressing my lips together. “And I mean it when I say all I want to do is help. We can shake on it, and trust me, I don’t go back on my promises.” He stands up, adjusts his casual t-shirt, and extends a large hand across the table, and within the two seconds I use in thinking, an idea causes him to drop his hand with a smile on his face.

“Let’s do one better.” He fishes around his neck for a locket attached to the necklace around his neck, and when I realize what he’s about to do, I shake my head, eyes widening slightly.

“I’m sorry, Mr Keith, but I can’t accept something like this from you. It looks like it holds sentimental value,” I say, but he doesn’t stop until he opens the locket and pulls out what looks like a coin from inside it.

“This is what I’m giving to you,” he says, and I stretch my hand to take the weathered piece of silver from him. “It’s a token…a token of promise, letting you know that I mean my words, and I want nothing in return.”

It takes a second, but I accept the coin from him, and I squeeze it in my palm.

“Thank you…Keith,” I say after a long pause, and he smiles.

After a single nod, his expression hardens. “Now, tell me what you need.”

I look around the house where Daniel and I have built our lives for the last few years, and instead of sadness, I feel a fresh wave of pain that translates into unbridled rage.

“If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll pack some of my belongings into a bag. I need to find a temporary apartment while I figure out my next move,” I say, and Keith nods.

I do as I say, and twenty minutes later, I’m leaving the life I know behind, with the promise to myself that Daniel is going to regret betraying me, and it’s not going to be my problem.

On the drive away from our suburban neighborhood in Keith’s car, my phone rings in my hand nonstop, but I don’t pick it up to grant Daniel an audience because I know what he’s going to say. He’s going to try to manipulate me into thinking that I didn’t see what I saw, but there’s no coming back from this level of betrayal.

I open my phone and scroll to my gallery, hoping that the automatic call recorder I set up a while ago to capture any possible information that I’d need in the future is still active, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see the most recent recording—Daniel’s head on Gwen’s bare chest as he confessed to his infidelity. The feature was set up innocently when I thought about how to avoid losing any information that might be useful to Daniel, but guess who it’s useful to now?

Without wasting any time, I send the video to Daniel and tell him never to call me again.

Keith’s voice pulls me out of my head. “I have a small apartment a few minutes away where you can settle down until you figure things out. Don’t worry, you’ll have the place all to yourself,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of us.

“What about you?” I ask, not able to help the feeling of guilt for pulling the roof from over someone’s head.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make myself comfortable in a hotel nearby. I’ve heard good things about the services here in New York,” he says with a smile that is meant to make me feel better, and it only does so slightly.

Just as Keith said, he drops me off at his apartment, quickly packs a bag, and leaves me with the complete set of keys.

“I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay here.” I bite my lower lip, avoiding his eyes as I get the next words out. “And I have to apologize for being rude to you at the party yesterday. It was wrong of me, and I have no excuse. I’m sorry, Keith,” I finish, before I dare to look at him.

His smile is warm and kind, but I can tell that he appreciates the apology.

“Get some rest,” he says, and I bid him goodbye.

The moment I close the door, a series of text notifications alerts me from my phone, all from Daniel, and my breath hitches in my throat as I read through them, the last of which is what has me clutching my chest.

[NALANI, I WILL NEVER LET YOU GO.]