The Secrets We Keep

Chapter One

My heels clicked across the floor as I headed towards my office. My assistant, Nyla, was flipping through papers at her desk. She pushed her long purple hair out her face. Her phone was tucked between her neck and shoulder talking with clients. I walked over, tapping my freshly set of nails against her desk. She looked over and smiled, mouthing a compliment towards my nails, and handing me some reports, neatly written. I headed to the broad glass doors, pushing through into my office. The massive windows showed a gorgeous view of the city. My desk sat against the back surrounded by my latest collection of unique plants, some transported from the Amazon rainforest. Some quirks of being a billionaire. I took a seat, leaning back for comfort and crossing my legs in manner, so the end of my dress covers.

I started scrambling through the papers, checking times and dates, clients reviews, and companies worth, which is steady and growing. I took my pen, writing down expenses and solutions to certain problematic clients issues. Once I finished, I set the papers aside. Nyla walked in just in time, with a fresh pot of coffee.

"How was the reports?" She asked, pouring me a cup.

"Everything is good, reviews are flawless as always, and the companies is growing steadily. We have already made 10.5 billion dollars in the past five months," I said, taking a sip.

"Yes, that sounds amazing, Rena," she said, emphasizing my name as it rolls across her pieced tongue.

I rose a neatly filled eyebrow in suspicion. She noticed and sighed.

"I got a call that needed to be transferred to you," she said, sliding her ring on and off. I could tell her anxiety was kicking in.

"Well, who was it?" I asked.

"Your sister, Brianna," she said, her face full of guilt, while bits of agony flickered in her eyes.

She knew about my past and problems I faced growing up with my siblings. Nyla was the first person, I trusted in years since that night I left, scrambling around on the streets. I slept on the benches in the park until I got a tap on the shoulder one night by Nyla, a runaway from her abusive parents.

"Hi, I don't mean to bother you," she said, pushing a stand of fiery red hair back behind her ear.

"Hey, Don't worry about it,"I said, sitting up, eyeing this stranger. She looked around my age, tall and very pretty, her small eyes, blue just like mine. She wore an oversized raincoat, hanging above her knees, I could see bruises covered her legs. Her tennis shoes were falling apart.

"What are you doing out here?" She asked, her face shining through the silent tears falling down her face. I felt a stab in my heart. I didn't know this girl, but I can tell she has been through enough.

"I left my home, hoping for a better life, but here," I say, gesturing around me, "it's not what I want,"

She sighs and sits down beside me, wiping her tears with her sleeve. A small smile appears through her blistered lips.

"I left my home too, my parents, well, they never agreed to who I wanted to be," she says, her voice trailing off. "They caused me pain, covering me in bruises and permanent scars."

She hugged herself tight, staring away for a few minutes in silence before her eyes trailed along my face towards my jaw. She reached over tracing her warm hand across my scar. My cheeks flushed, but hopefully she didn't see.

"What happened?" She asked, her voice full of empathy, as she brought her hand to her mouth, chewing on her nails.

"West, he hit me over the face with a beer bottle," I said, looking away from her eyes. I could see the pain, flicking in her eyes. "It's my fault, I said some things, I shouldn't have."