Alek didn’t agree. He cautiously looked around, downing his drink, right before slamming the glass on the table. I was quickly alert, positioning my hand on my gun. I was ready for an ambush, even though it wasn’t likely for him to take it to that level. He was smarter than that. He knew the consequences.
“This issue isn’t acceptable, Wesley. I’ve gone down my list of reasons for this happening, and the money I paid your family was more than enough to put this issue to rest.”
I studied him, astonished that he believed he wasn’t at fault. He was trying to blame my family, stating we failed to deliver on our part. I took a minute to gather myself before voicing my opinion. The truth was I didn’t care what title he wore. I had a title of my own, and it was time for me to make it known to everyone.
“I’m officially back, Alek.” I took a deep breath, looking around the restaurant. It was empty, except for the two of us and a few of his employees—guards included. I still felt comfortable continuing with my hand securely on my gun.
“What I’m getting at is time changes a person.” I swallowed, my eyes meeting his. The words I spoke next were not something I took pride in. “I learned a valuable lesson the night none of us can seem to forget. If I’m honest, it’s something that stays with me constantly, reminding me of who I truly am and where I come from. It reminds me of what’s expected of me and the consequences I’ll face if I don’t deliver.”
I decided I needed a drink of water. Admitting something I still couldn’t wrap my head around made my throat dry. I took a sip, pushing it back to the side afterward.
“The thing is, Alek, we both made a choice that night. You had your reasons for your choices, and I had reasons for my own. They were made, and we can’t take them back.”
He didn’t seem happy about the conversation, but he didn’t interrupt. He cautiously listened. His eyes never left mine, but I knew the ways of intimidation. His threating stare only enticed me. I scooted my chair closer to the table, clasping my hands together. I hesitated for a split second before getting to the point.
“My family doesn’t make mistakes. It’s the reason we’ve grown so much and why our clients always come back when they need something handled. We’re very thorough and prepared for anything that might stand in our way. However…” I leaned forward in my chair, wanting to make sure he heard every word, “I think you and I both know the issue wasn’t on our part. Somehow, someone found out about your plan and shared it with the one person it needed to be kept from.”
He braced his forearms on the table, shifting his eyes around the restaurant in thought. They eventually made their way back to me, displaying a significant amount of uncertainty.
“It isn’t possible. I know my men and am very selective about who I share my private matters with,” he stated.
I crossed my arms, unconvinced. “Anything is possible. I’ve been shown throughout the years no one’s perfect and honesty has its limits. Just like the truth can be stretched very thin.”
I thought of Mia the second the words left my mouth. I considered the advice I was giving Alek, trying to mend the pieces together. Could a father disappear without a trace, leaving behind his daughter, his only child? The question bounced around in my brain until I remembered something about Fredrick Hall. The image he portrayed to the public.
Yes, he had his secrets as many men do, but he was a family man to the core. His wife played the role of the typical businessman’s wife—smiling when it was required. turning a blind eye whenever something negative was said about her husband. Jocelyn Hall had stood beside her husband without hesitation. In the end, the cost had been her life. His daughter, Alyssa, was only seen when it was necessary. He shielded her from the lack of privacy that came with being his daughter. He made sure to keep her picture and name out of the papers, giving her the closest thing possible to a normal life. Which was why she was able to easily slide through the cracks, running in the same circles as Alek and I without us even knowing it. Did I believe she knew something about her past, leading her in our direction? I really couldn’t say. I knew one thing for sure, though. Her father knew exactly where his precious daughter was, and if he were anything like my father claimed, he could have blindly led her right into our lives without having to lift a finger.
I looked over at, Alek keeping my assumptions to myself, but decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. “I think it’s time for you to share with me the real motive behind your decision that night, Alek. Because it’s the only way we’re going to be able to clean this up.”
He signaled the waiter for another drink, loosening his tie. It appeared he was growing heated, but it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. It was a clear indication of his discomfort. He took the drink directly from the timid waitress and downed its contents before placing the empty glass on the table. The waitress picked up the glass and quickly walked away.
“I never thought I would be this desperate for your family’s help, but they do say life is unpredictable. The funny thing is, I always thought I had mine all figured out—or at least the power to control it.” He leaned forward, rubbing his hands over his face. “I guess I was wrong. The joke’s on me.”
I didn’t respond because I knew giving him clarification of the obvious wasn’t what he needed. What he needed was for me to assure him that it could all be swept under the rug, erased. Typically, those were the words I would deliver to my clients, and the meeting would end with a handshake for their appreciation of my services. But I couldn’t deliver that just yet on this one. The twisted reality of our situation could only be fixed if we all started being honest, and I didn’t think any of us were ready for that. Especially the man sitting in front of me.
Chapter Nineteen
Mia
I NEVER LIKED THE name Alyssa, which made my transition that much easier. It was just one of the many things I learned had to accept. It was also a name I only heard when I was in trouble. My parents had the habit of shortening it when everything was going right. “Al,” they would say, “I’m so proud of you.” They’d yell “Alyssa” when I was caught sneaking into the house…again or when they wanted me to explain why I had to be so difficult. They couldn’t understand, after being given so much, why I would repay them with such harsh treatment. My mother called me Alyssa when she begged me to explain to her, as she topped off another glass of wine, the reason I hated her so much. The reason my father had to continuously get me out of trouble, making him feel like I wanted to sabotage our family, everything he worked so hard to achieve. I remembered looking directly at her the one night I decided to respond to her constant banter. I was tired and angry. I shrugged, the words pouring out before I knew it.
“I don’t hate either one of you, Mother. I just hate what our family has become. If you want my personal opinion, we’re not much of a family at all anymore, are we? Don’t you ever get tired of pretending?”
Instead of her yelling at me or demanding I apologize for disrespecting her, she fixed herself another drink and locked herself in the bedroom. How could she argue when she knew I spoke the truth? I might have been out of line for pointing it out, but every word I spoke was true. The next day, almost precisely twenty-four hours later, I saw my mother again. I just wasn’t prepared for the state she was in. She was cold as ice, dead. Those last words I spoke to her would haunt me forever.
***
I always felt an immediate sense of peace when I stepped into Nadia’s office. She wasn’t your typical psychiatrist. Her tactic was different. She didn’t go for the severe vibes that made you feel constrained and claustrophobic, only telling your truth because you thought you had no other choice. She traveled more along the lines of a free spirit. Her advice only there to help break through what was eating at you, giving you the strength to pull yourself out. Her soothing tone helping you stand on your own. Regardless of her reluctance to follow standard protocol most in her field went by, she had her clients—whom my husband prefe
rred to call her “followers” because, like many others, he didn’t agree with the way she went about things. His opinion of her led to a simple question. Why did I prefer to have such a strange psychiatrist?
I didn’t have the guts to tell him I felt she was the only one who would truly keep our sessions private and not cave in to the intimidation he often used on others.
When she walked in, I was over by the large window, seated in one of the festive yellow chairs that decorated her office. I loved the brightness and open space of the area. It made you feel relaxed, comfortable.
She didn’t sit in front of me, at least not immediately. Instead, she walked up to me, placing her hand on my shoulder. “I’ve been calling you, Mia. I know it’s been difficult for you, coping with everything going on with your husband.”
The thing I loved about Nadia Hendricks was that regardless of the titles my husband and I wore, she still delivered her treatments the same. I was treated like everyone else, and I appreciated that. Which was why I knew her reference to Alek was sincere. She wasn’t searching for gossip or silently judging me for standing beside my husband, despite everything he’d been accused of. She was there for support, which was what I needed. I knew I could count on her to help me through the most challenging struggles and the constant whispers surfacing around me. I honestly didn’t know how much more I could take.
I swallowed a few times before responding. I could feel my throat growing dry, and the perspiration surfacing on my neck proved the topic made me uncomfortable, but I fought through it. When my eyes lifted toward hers, they were strong. I had to be strong.
“I’ve been dealing with it. The only thing that bothers me is how he refuses to let me in. He’s very secretive about it. When he starts to slip and confide in me, he quickly withdraws. It’s like he doesn’t want me involved.”
She finally took her seat and collected her tablet from the table beside her, jotting a few notes down, thoughtfully chewing the edge of her pen. “There could be several reasons for your husband’s reluctance to let you in. Some men feel it shows weakness, which isn’t something they’re proud to share.”
She hesitated, before continuing. “It can also be an indication that he’s hiding something. It could be a subject that he doesn’t plan on sharing with you. It can be for several reasons. It doesn’t necessarily have to be bad.”
I allowed her advice to sink in, trying to look at the positive side. She was right. The reason didn’t have to be bad, but I knew better. I might’ve turned a blind eye to many things to avoid confrontation, but it didn’t mean I was naïve. I knew how to read between the lines. I also knew my husband. I forced a laugh. It was becoming my coping mechanism.
“I’m sure all women want to believe the most convenient possibility, Nadia. However, I’ve come to learn the inconvenient one is normally right.”
She gave me a sympathetic look. I was sure, in the back of her mind, she had her assumptions, but her job wasn’t to voice personal opinions. It was to get to the bottom of mine. She leaned back in her chair, taking a deep breath, her pen and tablet idle in her hand.
“What do you think, Mia? I’m sensing you feel strongly about something you’ve already decided to believe.”
I averted my eyes, but they eventually found their way back to hers. “Can I be upset if everything I’ve told him has been a lie? I haven’t been honest with him about anything, not even the first night we met.” My question caught her by surprise.
I shook my head in defeat. “The sad part is, he doesn’t even know my real name. It’s hard for me to be upset when I carry all of that guilt. I feel like if I try to judge him, he will throw all of my lies right back in my face. Sometimes I think its best if I just allow him to have his secrets so I can keep mine.”
***
I had been seeking treatment from Nadia Hendricks for a long time, but I had always been selective about what I choose to share. It wasn’t about trust. It was the reality of knowing even with the privacy of her being a psychiatrist and the knowledge of knowing she felt strongly about going by the rules, it could always get out.
She shifted in her chair. I could tell she was considering how to respond. I had thrown a wrench into years of treatment, even though most of her advice had still been useful. It changed everything.
“It depends, Mia. Every situation is unique in its own way. How about we start by you explaining to me yours? We’ll move forward from there.” Her eyes softened. “I can tell this is a sensitive subject and I’m honored you felt you could share this with me. So, don’t rush. Take your time. My next appointment canceled right before you walked in.”
I nodded, grateful for her willingness to extend her help, knowing once I crossed the threshold and offered to share my secrets, I couldn’t go back. Once I spoke the words out loud, it would make everything real. They wouldn’t just be thoughts anymore. They would be my truth. I looked up at the clock, noticing it had already been forty-five minutes, which meant I had another hour and fifteen to share with her everything I had worked hard to keep buried, everything I had made sure to hide. The words I spoke next were strained, and the name I whispered felt foreign because I hadn’t been that person since the night my mother was murdered and my father disappeared. To everyone I met after that, I was simply Mia.
“My birth name is Alyssa Hall, but I was advised to change it in the aftermath of a night I will never be able to forget. It was the night my whole life fell apart. It was the night I found my mother dead in our home.”
I could tell she was shocked, but she was also trained and prepared to deal with all types of situations. She just wasn’t expecting me to be one of them. She wasn’t expecting Mia Johnson to have secrets. Maybe Alek and I weren’t that different. Perhaps I shouldn’t judge him like so many people had my father. It was possible for him to have his reasons. The difference was I knew my father back then, but there was so much I still didn’t know about my husband.
“Okay, that was a big step. It also clarifies some signs I’ve seen in you throughout our previous sessions. When a person changes their identity, Mia, they constantly have to fight to keep up with the persona they created.” She gave me a concerned expression.
“What I’m trying to say is having to pretend is a complicated task. It can weigh on you without you even knowing it, triggering memories in the back of your mind, and making you constantly question yourself. Having to continuously decide what’s true and what isn’t. Not to mention, on top of all that, you lost your mother—without even having a moment to grieve.”
I pretended not to hear the sadness in her voice, her sympathy for something that had happened years before. I didn’t need that. I just needed for everything to shift back into place.
“What about nightmares?” Her forehead creased as she considered my question. “Can struggling to keep up with this persona cause them, too?”
She bit her lip in concentration. “I think we’ve covered this before, Mia, but with everything that you’ve just shared, it gives me a better understanding of your situation.” She paused, remembering something. “But if you stopped having them and they’ve suddenly come back, something could have triggered them.” She leaned forward. “It could be a person, a voice, or it could just be a time your mind has decided to remember certain things.”
I stared at her, aware that something had triggered my past. The part I didn’t understand was that not much had changed in my life. I could’ve easily blamed everything on the phone call and text messages that followed. However, the nightmares had been there before I received any of them. It had to be something else. I stood from my seat, walking up to the large window, looking down at the traffic, then back toward Nadia, knowing I needed to do something before I spoke another word. It appeared I was given no choice because if I didn’t go to him first, I knew he would eventually reach out to me with everything that had taken place. I already had my fair share of surprises.
“I think I’ve shared enough today, Nadia. I don
’t think I can handle much more.”
She stood from her chair and walked toward me, placing her hand on my shoulder.
“I understand, Mia. Just remember, talking about it with someone can make you feel a hundred times better. It can help lift that weight you’re caring all by yourself. It can help you heal.”
I smiled at her, knowing she could never understand. Talking about it came with consequences. Talking about it brought my past just a little bit closer.
Chapter Twenty
Wesley
ALEK JOHNSON WASN’T A man of many words when he felt the person he was speaking to was beneath him. I knew he felt this way about me since the first time we met. His hate toward me had grown over the years, and I could tell he wasn’t thrilled about me being in charge. Especially with my previous command for him to share more than he intended. He wasn’t happy to have to ask me for help. He wasn’t comfortable with having to answer to me…period.
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms as he filled me in on the situation. His voice was distant as he spoke. He was thinking back to how it all started. I could sense every word was a struggle for him. The hesitation in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, and I had a strange feeling he was filtering his words along the way.
“My father conducted business with Fredrick Hall. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out his company comes at a price.”
I nodded. I knew of Fredrick’s reputation before he disappeared. He was a businessman, but he never played by the rules. He made his own. His tactic had been similar to my family’s—sometimes you had to play dirty to get ahead. It was something even Alek knew himself. The most successful men had secrets. It was nothing I didn’t already know. I struggled not to intervene as he continued. I sensed the information was leading somewhere, knowing he preferred to drag things along before getting to the point.
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