KISS OF BETRAYAL

CHAPTER FOUR-KISS OF SECRETS

Every secret leaves a trace

I heard a knock on my hotel room door. It was Ryan. His eyes avoided my gaze.

“I met with Dad a few days before the incident,” he said as he took a seat as he narrated everything to me

The week of the accident, Ryan was still in New York. That night, Dad and Mom had been returning from a date, laughter and music still lingering in the car. Dad had planned to drop Mom off and meet Ryan at the office afterward or maybe the next day. But fate had other plans. The screech of brakes, the crash, the sudden silence… it all happened before he could.

Ryan had been the last person Dad reached out to. After the crash, someone must have taken Dad’s phone, because not long after, Ryan received a message that made his blood run cold: “Your dad started a war he can’t handle, so I finished him.” Attached were a few horrifying images.

Ryan rushed to the crash site, traced the hospital where Dad was taken, and went there immediately. Since no one knew about his existence as Alexander’s illegitimate child, he hid dressed in black, a cap pulled low to be unrecognizable. That’s when I noticed him sitting quietly in the corner of the hospital that night. He ran away that night out of fear.

I realized why Dad had included Ryan. Even though I’d made it clear I didn’t want anything to do with the company, he wanted Ryan there to help run it. And… I guess, in his own way, he just wanted to reconnect with Ryan before something unexpected happened.

“We have to find Dad’s killer by any means,” he said with a fierce look

“Dad wasn’t always there, but he tried He looked after me though not physically; he ensured that I never lacked and constantly checked up on me with calls,” he added remorsefully.

“My mom… she was angry, they had been dating for years, and when he married someone else, she felt betrayed and heartbroken. She took out a restraining order on false accusations against him because seeing him frequently wasn’t going to make matters better. That was when he stopped visiting, but despite everything, he never stopped caring for me.” Ryan’s voice broke a little.

“I went to the hospital that night because, deep down, I loved my Dad so much. Thanks to him, I had a good life in Florida,” he added lowering his gaze

My mouth went numb. “How many secrets had Dad hidden from us?” Or maybe Mom knew about everything but never brought it up.

“Ryan,” I said softly, “if this is true, then we need to find Dad’s killer together. We’ve both lost him,” I whispered. “But maybe… maybe we can still give him the justice he deserves. Please think about it and get back to me.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

______________________

But two days passed, and I heard nothing from him. Maybe he didn’t want to fight for the justice of my dad. Maybe I had to do this on my own after all.

I set out to leave for New York the next day when I got a knock on my door. It was Ryan, holding his suitcase too. He gestured. “I guess we can collaborate here.”

I smirked and jumped at him with a tight hug. We left for the airport together. Relief loosened my chest, and for the first time, I didn’t feel alone.

We arrived in New York and headed to the police station to file the case.

The officer’s brows drew together as he scrolled through the messages. “Same number?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes. It’s the same one that texted me after the funeral.”

He searched for something on his system and, within minutes, pulled up a name: Mr. Fredrick. My heart skipped , an actual suspect. Mr. Fredrick. That was his name.

We got to his location in Brooklyn, New York, in a matter of minutes. It was an apartment. We knocked and a dark-skinned woman opened the door.

“Yes? How may I help you?” she asked.

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. “I’m looking for Mr. Fredrick.”

“He isn’t here,” she said, pausing for a second as she scanned the outside of the apartment and saw the police. “I know nothing about his whereabouts,” she added, her voice trembling.

“Miss,” the police stepped forward, “how are you related to this man?”

“He is my husband,” she said with heavy breaths.

“So where is he? You could be arrested for hiding a murderer you know that, right?”

She swallowed hard, eyes blinking very fast. “He is at the Lorena Hotel. He has not been home for a month that’s his hideout.”

The police raided the hotel, came down with a short, dark man, and cuffed him.

My eyes burned and my hand curled into a tight fist. I walked briskly toward the man, stretching my hand to his throat. “What did you do to my father? Answer me!” I burned with rage.

Ryan held me from the back, pulling my hand away. “You cannot take the law into your own hands,” he said. “At least we found the murderer let the police do their job.”

He entered the car and we drove straight to the station for investigation.

“I killed her parents,” he said, eyes filling with guilt. “I was paid to do it.”

It was on a Friday morning that I came around the house and bribed my way to the security and driver. I gave them five thousand dollars each. The driver tampered with the brakes of the car they were using to go out that evening ,the Rolls-Royce.

The driver and the security man were later arrested.

All efforts to get the person who sent Mr. Fredrick were void. For two days, he was mute.

I decided to go home that night to freshen up. Ryan and I had been there for two days. As we were about to leave, I saw him.

A man stood by a black Bentley parked across the street. Confident, sharply dressed the kind of confidence that comes with old money and quiet power.

“Miss Alexander?” he called, his voice low, calm, deliberate.

I hesitated. “Yes?”

He approached, holding out a sleek business card. Tristan Carter. CEO, Carter Holdings. A name that carried weight one of my father’s biggest business rivals.

“I heard you want to reopen the case,” he said, eyes narrowing slightly. “Your father’s death… it doesn’t add up, does it?”

I frowned. “Why would someone from Carter Holdings care?”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Because whatever killed your father might come for you next.” Something in his tone was a mix of care and threat.

He glanced once more toward the station, then back at me. “You’re looking for the truth, Miss Alexander. But trust me… truth in this business world comes with a price.”

Before I could respond, he opened the Car door. “I’ll be in touch,” he said, his voice commanding. Then he drove off.

I stood there, staring blankly at the car as it slowly disappeared from my sight. Every secret leaves a trace… and I had just met mine.

What was his affiliation with the case?