The Secrets Beneath Our Beauty

By Lea Mcmillian

To fail to keep up with the Joneses is perceived as demonstrating social economic or cultural inferiority. It's not about what you know but more about who you know. What happens when looks aren't enough? What happens when the more you try to keep your secret contained the more they start to unravel and unfold.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781984587695

Book preview

Copyright © 2020 by Lea Mcmillian.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 07/09/2020

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Contents

At The Office

The Pawnshop

Some Strange Place

10:55 p.m. (Twelve Hours Later)

At the Williams Residence

Back at the Pawnshop

The Williams Residence

Liam’s POV

Matthew’s POV

The Garage

Day After the Pain

Jailhouse

A New Day – Melissa’s POV

Joseph’s Bedroom

Back at the Williams Residence

One Long Ride with Malia

90210

Dominique’s POV

Four Funerals, One Woman – Malia’s POV

Angela Unmasked

Malia’s POV

The Past Haunts Me

More Drama, More Pain, What’s Next?

Watch Your Words

Someone Else’s Nightmare Relived

Years from that Day

Thinking of It All

Who Is He?

Who Am I Really?

Regret

In Deep Thought

Room 45

Redirecting My Attention

A FTER A LONG day at work, Malia couldn’t wait to get home to her family. Malia had been a happily married woman blessed with beautiful kids. She had been a happy woman with a great husband and beautiful kids and with not-so-beautiful secrets.

Malia had come home around four thirty in the afternoon. She called for her son, Joseph, reminding him of his music class. She had been a very persistent woman—if things were not done on time, nothing was right. Just before she began to head upstairs, to change from her uniform, she got a call from the kitchen. To Malia’s surprise, it had been her ex-husband, who her current husband, Liam, had known nothing about. He had been calling her back to back today, so she decided enough was enough.

Hello, Daniel. How can I help you?

She could tell Daniel had been crying from the ache in his voice. It wasn’t like his usual self. Finally, Daniel had settled into the call and began to talk.

Mal ia, it’s been … well, twelve years since Matthew. We need to talk.

Malia wasn’t sure how to respond at first, but she didn’t waste time thinking.

It’s funny because it almost sounded like you said, ‘twelve years.’ Get over it. Matthew is a distant memory, and I don’t plan on revisiting the past, so please let me be. Don’t call my phone again. I’m not a psychiatrist, and we are not married.

After a few moments of silence, the call went dead, and Malia acted as nothing had happened.

Joseph headed down the steps, preparing to leave for music class, but he needed a ride; he didn’t plan on taking a bus.

Dominique, can I get a ride to music class? I’ll pay you back for gas. Promise.

Dominique was the middle child. He did anything for Joseph. Lamar was the oldest. He was always a bystander to the surrounding happiness. Although he didn’t ask Lamar for favors, he always had my back.

I can take you, but I have to drop off Lamar at work first because I’m borrowing his ride while mine is in the shop.

AT THE OFFICE

S O WHAT AM I going to tell her? I can’t just lie.

I walk back and forth over and over again, trying to get my story perfect. How can I tell my wife that our entire life savings are missing? Over $10,000,000 has just disappeared. Just when I was about to head home, I received a voicemail that made me stick around:

Recording: Mr. Williams, we have really enjoyed getting to know you over the years. I’m sorry to say that your services are no longer needed. Your last check will be issued on Friday. Your belongings need to be removed by no later than tomorrow. Don’t worry about the empty room and, please, no reminiscing. It will not get you your job back. We already have someone taking your position, so take time and enjoy the rest of your life.

Beep. There are no more messages in your mailbox. Goodbye.

God, what am I going to do? She is going to kill me.

This could be a joke, I thought to myself, but in times like this, nothing is a joke. I got my friend, Elijah, to bring his truck, and I packed all of my things. When I got home, I made Elijah park in the garage, so we wouldn’t make a scene.

Malia.

I had hoped she was asleep, but I wasn’t that lucky today, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if she was awake. As I made my way to the garage door, I spotted her coming down the elevator; her way of telling me it was done.

I heard you call. What’s going on?

I tried my best to drop the bomb easily, but it wasn’t possible.

You lost $10,000,000? Malia asked.

I am going to do everything I can to get our money back, I promise.

Get my money. I want every single dime in my account. You have three days, or I will bury you so deep, people will hate you more than they hate Bush. Every food stamp line you will be made to stand in it, selling the food stamps just to get a blanket from Walmart. The only thread count you will be able to afford won’t be listed you will go to the nearest public restroom to bundle tissue for a pillow. Maybe you think money grows on trees. Do you know how we got this money? We went through desperate measures to live so nicely. Just because we want to live a better life than the peasants you call family, the kids can never see their grandmother, and now she can’t see at all. I won’t divorce you, but when I’m done with you, nobody will believe I married a rag like yourself. So do us a favor, sweetheart. Get my money.

You wouldn’t dare. We needed that money. It was all your idea. I did it for you.

I didn’t make you do anything. Who do you think they’re going to believe, a girl from a nice neighborhood with a pretty smile or some guy who got lucky?

Seems to me the most beautiful people have the biggest secrets.

Don’t forget they have the sweetest voice you would have ever heard, said Malia."

I turned away and began to unload the truck. Elijah had heard everything, but I don’t think Malia cared. I need to find this money and quickly. If anyone were to see that signature, all trails lead back to me. To my surprise, Elijah had left. He took my car and left his truck. Malia probably scared him off. Honestly, if I didn’t live here, she would have scared me off as well, but I knew everything was going to be fine by morning.

As I went up to my bedroom, I noticed that a lock had been put in place. Who put the lock on the outside of the door? Instead of trying to find out, I went to one of the bedrooms on the third floor, which was Lamar’s level. He was quiet, didn’t talk much. All of the boys had their own level. The basement was my territory, my man cave, but I didn’t trust being alone with a serial killer for a wife. This was a six-level house, and we didn’t exactly get cell reception everywhere, so I needed to stay within range. I finally calmed myself down and got some sleep, and when I woke up, I smelled brown sugar bacon, which made me cheer up a little.

Lamar had cooked a big meal in his kitchen, and when I had gotten out of