The Wrong Fiancée: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance (Marriage by Contract Book 3)
The Wrong Fiancée: Chapter 20

It had been four days since Dean had left. Four days since he’d ended his engagement with Felicity. She’d come to see me, blaming me for the end of their relationship.

‘I know you slept with him,’ she yelled at me when I let her into my cottage.

‘Slept with whom?’ I asked nonchalantly.

‘With Dean.’

‘Huh?’

‘I know you had a thing with him in Honolulu. I know he was the guest you fucked and got fired for.’

How the hell did she know about Dean and me? Fuck!

‘I didn’t get fired,’ I told her honestly, ‘I did take a break because my father died and my sister was paralyzed.’

She sneered at me. ‘You think you can take Dean from me?’

‘Got no desire to do that, Fee.’

She looked around my cottage. ‘This is who you are? Low-class filth. Dean Archer will have nothing to do with you.’

‘Okay.’ It had been years since anything Felicity or Ginny said affected me. It had been tiring to listen to their nonsense when I was working at the resort, but since Dante had warned them, they had stayed out of my way. ‘Look, Felicity, you, your relationship with anyone, it’s none of my business.‘

‘You always want what I have.’

I cocked an eyebrow. ‘Actually, I had an affair with Dean four years ago—so, the truth is that you had my sloppy seconds.’

She all but pounced at me but I caught her wrist before she could strike me and pushed her away. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

Was she getting physically violent now? How many screws did she have loose?

Her jaw tightened. ‘You’ll regret messing with me.’

‘I haven’t messed with you,’ I said wearily. ‘I don’t care enough about you to mess with you.’

Thinking about that contentious conversation made my head hurt worse. It had begun to throb when I got to Ka Pono.

Noe was in a bad mood. Her doctors had changed her physical therapy regimen, which was causing her pain. But the new plan, along with some experimental drugs, might help her regain some movement. She’d probably still need a wheelchair, but she might be able to take a few steps. I thought that would make her happy—but tough titties. Noe was as surly as ever.

Like always, a visit with Noe had sucked all my positive energy out of me. I came back home feeling like a hollowed-out shell.

I took the turn to the cottage on my bicycle, looking forward to a shower and some sleep, when I saw flashing blue and red lights parked in front of my place. My stomach dropped.

I leaned my bicycle against a tree and rushed to my cottage.

A uniformed officer approached me. ‘This is my place. Is everyone alright? Did someone get hurt?’

‘Are you Elika Leina Hamlet?’ one of them asked, his voice flat and official.

My heart jumped into my throat. ‘Y-yes?’

‘You’re under arrest for theft. Please turn around and put your hands behind your back.’

I didn’t move. The words didn’t even register at first. Theft? This had to be some kind of joke. I stared at them, frozen in place, my body refusing to cooperate with the panic racing through me.

‘Now,’ the officer barked, more forcefully this time.

I turned around slowly, my whole body shaking as the cuffs clicked shut around my wrists. The cold metal bit into my skin, and I flinched, trying to make sense of what was happening. Theft? What had I stolen? My mind scrambled to connect the dots, but it was impossible. I hadn’t done anything.

A small crowd had gathered, resort guests stopping to gawk at the scene unfolding in front of them. Their eyes followed me like I was some kind of spectacle, something to whisper about over cocktails later. I could feel the humiliation burning through me, making my cheeks flush with heat.

Leilani came rushing down the path, her face full of concern and confusion. ‘What’s going on here?’ she demanded, her voice shaking with both anger and fear.

When the officer told her why I was being arrested, she glared at him. ‘Elika would never steal.’

One of the officers glanced at her dismissively. ‘We’re just doing our job, ma’am.’

‘I…I don’t know what’s going on,” I cried out to Leilani.

‘I’ll take care of things,’ she yelled.

They led me to the car, every step feeling like a public execution, and shoved me into the backseat. The drive to the precinct was a blur of fear, my heart pounding in my chest, my wrists aching from the cuffs that were too tight.

Kauai was a small island, and you could pretty much get anywhere within thirty minutes max. But our ten-minute drive to the police station felt like an eternity.

When we got to the station, they brought me into a cold, sterile interrogation room. I sat there, hands still cuffed, my legs trembling beneath the table. Two detectives entered, their faces grim, and dropped a file on the table with a thud.

The woman removed my cuffs.

‘I’m Detective Akina, and this is my partner, Detective Palakiko.’ She nodded to the man and took a seat in front of me.

I rubbed my fingers over one wrist, soothing the chaffed skin.

Detective Akina was a petite Native Hawaiian woman dressed in jeans, a crisp white button-up, and a holster snugly strapped to her side. I guessed she was in her late twenties, a few years older than me. Detective Palakiko, like me, was mixed race—half white, half Native Hawaiian. His features reflected both sides of his heritage: a sharp jawline that spoke to his haole roots, softened by the warm, sun-kissed tones of the islands. I pegged him to be in his late forties, maybe early fifties.

I waited for them to speak, remaining silent. I’d watched enough television shows to know that shutting up was the best policy in these cases. I needed a lawyer. I had zero money for one, but I knew if I asked for one, they’d have to get me a public defender.

‘Do you know Felicity and Ginny Thatcher?’ Detective Akina asked, her face stern.

I nodded.

‘Can you not speak, Miss Hamlet?’ the female detective snapped.

I cleared my throat. ‘I know them.’

‘Who are they to you?’

‘Guests at Hale Moana, where I work.’

Detective Palakiko smiled. I deduced that he was the good cop. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. I watched the scene as if out of my body.

‘We spoke to your supervisor, Desmond Rykes,’ he said softly.

I didn’t even nod this time.

Detective Palakiko narrowed his eyes. ‘Would you like to know what he said about you?’

I shrugged and then shook my head. ‘No, thank you.’

I could imagine what that prick said about me. Had he accused me of stealing? What did he think I stole? Spoons? Bags of Stevia? What?

Detective Akina opened a file and slipped some photos of jewelry in front of me. Did they think I stole these? I’d never even seen them.

‘Can you recognize these?’

I shook my head and, for good measure, added, ‘No.’

She pulled out another photo, and my throat tightened. The jewelry—that jewelry—was in my dresser, tucked away beside my T-shirts and shorts.

‘Mrs. Ginny Thatcher’s diamond necklace, a tennis bracelet, and Miss Felicity Thatcher’s Cartier watch were found in your cottage.’

It took me a moment to process their accusations.

‘Considering your…relationship and history with the Thatchers, you want to tell us why we found those items in your possession?’ Detective Akina, who I could see had already drawn, hung, and quartered me, asked.

I blinked, my mouth dry, my thoughts still stuck in the panic of what was happening. ‘I don’t know.’

Damn, Felicity! Framing me for stealing jewelry? God! What would I do if these detectives didn’t believe? And one or both of them already hated me; that much was obvious. We survived on tourism in Kauai, which meant that any crime committed against one was given high priority, so I knew why they were being so antagonistic.

They exchanged a glance, the kind that said they didn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth.

‘Maybe you didn’t think anyone would notice a few pieces missing. But trust me, people like the Thatchers notice.’ This was Detective Palakiko taking over in his pleasant, avuncular voice.

‘I didn’t steal anything!’ I took a deep breath, ‘My door is always unlocked,’ I added as if that would solve the problem. The detectives would run to investigate and learn more.

Yeah, so in the real world, they didn’t do that kind of thing.

There was a knock on the door and Detective Akina stepped out of the room while Palakiko glowered at me. I didn’t show fear. I mean, I was scared, like pee in my panties scared—but I wasn’t going to show it. I’d been set up like in a freaking bad episode of some old-fashioned mystery TV show.

When the detective came back, she tilted her head at her partner, and he walked out as well, giving me another nasty stare. It was almost comical, if it wasn’t so fucking real.

I put my head down on the table as I massaged one wrist and then the other. Would they give me a phone call? Who would I call? I could ask for a lawyer. I should do that, I decided, buy time. I could call Dante…but what if he believed the Thatchers? Dean? God! I wished Dean was here. He’d come to help me, wouldn’t he?

I had been alone since my mother died but never as lonely as now in an interrogation room in the Līhu’e Police Precinct.

The door opened, and I raised my head.

A woman in a sharp, tailored suit strode in, her heels clicking confidently against the floor. She carried an air of authority. The detectives followed her and grabbed the files that were still on the table.

The male detective tried to intimidate me again. ‘If you know what’s good for you, Elika, you should⁠—’

‘Stop talking to my client, Palakiko,’ the woman said, her voice cold and commanding. ‘And get out. Trying to scare an itty bitty girl. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. When I tell your tūtū wahine about this, she’s gonna hammer your ass.’

This woman knew the detective’s grandmother? Who the heck was she?

She set her briefcase on the table, opened it, and pulled out a few papers. ‘I’m Sara Iona, your counsel,’ she told me and then stared the detectives down.

I stared at her, dumbfounded. Counsel? I couldn’t afford one. But she didn’t look at me. Her focus was on the detectives, and the way she squared her shoulders told me she was ready for a fight.

‘You didn’t have the right to search her cottage,’ Sara continued, her voice steady. ‘I don’t care if you got the resort general manager’s or Elika Hamlet’s boss’s permission. That cottage is Elika’s private rental, and your search was illegal.’

The detectives exchanged a look, but I could see the tension creeping into their posture. Sara leaned forward, her voice razor-edged. ‘Unless you want a lawsuit on your hands, I suggest you stop pressuring my client into confessing to a crime she didn’t commit.‘

The detectives shifted uncomfortably, and after a tense pause, Detective Akina said, ‘We’ll see what the prosecutor says,’

I let out a shaky breath as they left the room, feeling my whole body tremble. The adrenaline was wearing off, and all that was left was the crushing fear, the disbelief. I felt like I had been chewed up and spit out, every part of me raw and exposed.

Sara turned to me then, her expression softening as she sat next to me. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said gently. ‘You’ll be out of here soon. The prosecutor isn’t going to charge you. They have nothing.’

I nodded, but my hands were still shaking despite my best efforts to calm myself down. The whole day had been a whirlwind of fear and confusion, and now I didn’t even know how to process what had just happened. How did my life get to this point?

The detectives came back, offering one last attempt to intimidate me, but Sara shut them down with a look so sharp it could cut glass. ‘No more games,’ she said firmly. ‘This is over.’

When they left for good, Sara took my hands in hers. ‘It’s going to be alright, okay?’

I believed her. She was kind and firm, strong and nice, and I trusted her instantly. There was some relief, but my world was still spinning and the room was closing in on me. I had been accused of something I hadn’t done, and for a moment there, I had actually wondered if anyone would believe me. If I’d end up trapped in this nightmare.

Detective Akina came back. She folded her arms and leaned against the door. ‘The prosecutor will not be pressing charges,’ she said.

I bit my lower lip.

‘No shit,’ my lawyer said. She rose, closed her briefcase, and picked it up.

The detective looked at me, and I saw regret in her eyes. ‘We got some video from the resort, and it looks like…well, someone came in and out of your cottage this afternoon. Apparently, everyone knows that you leave your door open.‘

‘Everyone does,’ I interjected.

She nodded. ‘Yeah. But everyone also knows you go to Ka Pono on Wednesday mornings.’

‘Who was it?’

She shook her head. ‘Ongoing investigation. Can’t talk about it. But I will say we’re sorry for jumping the gun. But we got a complaint and a credible witness⁠—’

‘Who’s not looking so credible now?’ Sara said sarcastically.

‘Give it a rest, Sara,’ Detective Akina chided.

Kauai was a small island. Everyone knew everyone, so it wasn’t surprising that all these people in law enforcement were on a first-name basis.

‘Come on, Elika, let’s get you home,’ Sara urged.

The female detective groaned at that. ‘Ah, Elika, can you stay somewhere else for a night or two? I’ll make sure your cottage is cleaned up before you go there. We searched the place, and…it’s a bit of a mess.’

I swallowed. It wasn’t much, but it was mine, and it had been violated. It was all I had.

‘No, I have nowhere else to go,’ I stated the truth. ‘I’ll go home and…fix…I’ll go home.’ The words were getting hard to get out because my throat was tight.

I didn’t deserve this. I wanted so badly to have a pity party and rail at the world for being so unfair—but that would get me nowhere. I’d just have to pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over building a home for myself.

As we walked out of the interrogation room, Detective Akina called out, ‘Mama is expecting you for Sunday dinner, Sara.’

Sara just waved without looking back. She glanced at me and sighed. ‘She’s my sister.’

‘Right. And Detective Palakiko?’

‘Cousin.’

I nodded. ‘Ah…not that I’m not grateful, I am, but…how did you know to come to help me?’

‘I was hired.’

‘By whom?‘

We were out in the bullpen now and she raised her chin toward a man who looked completely out of place in casual but expensive linen pants and a shirt, a fedora, and an unlit cigar in his mouth. He was leaning against a doorway, looking through his phone. When he saw us, he smiled and straightened.

‘I don’t know who that is,’ I whispered.

‘Let me introduce you.’ Sara led me to the man. ‘Elika Hamlet, meet Tate Archer.’

The man held out his hand. ‘You know my son Dean.”

I stared at his hand for a long, uncomfortable moment before shaking it. ‘I…what?’

He smiled widely. ‘Come on, darling, let’s get you out of this police station.’

‘But…how?’

‘I came to Hawaii this afternoon and found out what happened from a very nice woman named Leilani, and Voila!’

‘I don’t know what to say,” I mumbled as we walked out of the station toward a blue Range Rover Sport convertible.

He shook hands with Sara, and we both thanked her.

Tate opened the passenger door for me, and I got in, still in shock.

He got behind the wheel. ‘Now, your place is a disaster zone. So, we won’t go there. I have rented a small place on the beach close to the resort. I’m going to take you there.’

‘Why?’ I asked, baffled.

‘Because you’re the woman my son is in love with, which means you’re family.’