Chapter 1: The Price of Promises

I spent seven years with Derek Langford, letting him spoil me—and sometimes wondering if I was just spoiling myself.

Those years glint in my memory like the city skyline at dusk—shiny, endless, and a little unreal. The city always smelled like rain on concrete and perfume—expensive, but a little bit lonely. Sometimes I’d tease Derek, pouting about five-star restaurants or designer handbags, catching his half-smirk as he reached for his wallet. Derek always went big, and I played my part with practiced, flirty ease. Still, in the quiet after he’d left, I’d stare out my apartment window, the lights blurring together, and wonder if being wanted was the same as being loved.

Later, when he was about to get engaged, he laid it out: take the check and walk away, or stay on as his secret—his other woman.

The check was heavy, blank, slipped across a marble-topped table in his penthouse overlooking Lake Michigan. The skyline shimmered through floor-to-ceiling windows, cold and perfect. I remember the way his hand hovered just a second too long. The words hung between us, blunt and brutal—take the payout, or become a secret. My chest tightened. In that moment, the city outside seemed to hold its breath too.

I slid it back across the table, my hand steady even though my heart was racing. I chose neither. I left, cleanly and decisively, without even touching that generous breakup check. But I couldn’t take his money, and I needed something—some proof I wasn’t just a footnote. So I asked for a promise:

No matter what trouble I might face in the future, as long as I came to him, he had to help me.

It was a strange request, but he gave it, his eyes glinting with a seriousness I rarely saw. Maybe he respected my dignity, or maybe he was just too proud to say no.