Chapter 27: Chapter 27

Halal's eyes widened after reading the text she'd gotten from Valentino minutes after declining his phone call. 'My lawyer is processing the divorce papers, I've left your contact with him. He'll contact you in due time, also I'm leaving you the house. Do whatever you want with it, good luck Halal. Be safe' Halal couldn't believe it.

He was the one who had refused to talk about having a divorce some days back, what had made him change his mind now? Halal was confused, she would never be able to understand Valentino and his ways. She was convinced that her soon to be ex husband was bipolar.

She didn't know how to reply his message, she didn't even know what to tell him.

She quickly texted 'Okay' and hoped it was enough. Eight years of marriage, gone with the wind. Nothing to show for it, no children, nothing. She didn't even want the house, perhaps she'd sell it or give it back. After all, she had brought nothing to the marriage. It was only fair that she left with nothing.

Halal sighed before dropping her phone on the coffee table, saying it was one thing. She'd asked for the divorce first, it was just words then and now? Now it was really going to happen.

Nothing had changed the following week, her boss returned, she was still living with Darrell while waiting for her divorce papers to surface. Victoria was still in a coma and Darrell was acting very strange.

She tried ignore his new habits and focused solely on work but it was hard to ignore sometimes.

He locked himself in his mini office most times, stepped out of rooms where she was present to make and answer private calls, and he had a security lock on his phone now. Those things shouldn't be alarming but it was for her, Darrell never hid anything from her and now he was hiding things.

Halal shook her head before focusing on something else.

Her boss, Monsieur Jacques was back and he too was acting strange, he too was avoiding her. She hadn't asked him about the nude painting yet because their schedule had been busy but now, they had free time. She had to talk to him, she wanted to know why he had a painting of her in the nude at his house .

Gathering her confidence, she walked into his office.

"Boss" Halal began the minute she walked into his office.

"yes, employee" Jacques didn't lift his head to look at her as usual.

Halal sighed, it was now or never. "There is something I'd like to discuss with you" she continued.

Jacques looked up now and pulled off his reading glasses. "I'm listening" he said his gaze settling on her face.

Halal's confident expression faltered. "I... I" she stuttered before pausing to take a deep breath.

Jacques expression didn't change, he looked bored."Go on"

Halal took in a deep breath before speaking "I saw a painting of me at your house". Jacques looked away from her. "You're mistaken" He said.

"But sir" she protested. She knew what she had seen, she wasn't mistaken.

Jacques turned back to her "You're dismissed for the day".

Halal nodded and turned to leave, it didn't feel right. She could tell when someone was hiding something from her so rather than leaving, she turned back to him.

"I have to know why" she stated.

Jacques turned back to her furiously. "Drop it please, I'm tired. Why the hell had Marie allowed you into that room?" he muttered but Halal had heard him clearly.

Her eyebrows rose to her hairline. "What?" she asked shocked. She'd heard him loud and clear, there was no going back now.

Jacques sighed, the jig was up. "So you know what I am talking about right?" Halal asked looking even more confused.

" Halal you do realize you're wasting my time right? I run a fashion empire, I meet various people and important personalities every day, you know this and you know how important my time is and how stressed I am right now. You know I hate it when someone wastes my time and I hate discussing irrelevant topics. I didn't build this empire from sitting around and engaging in time wasting discussions. For the love of God Halal, I have a lot of artistic pieces in my house, why are you on about this one painting" Monsieur Jacques said angrily.

Halal looked at him shocked, shocked was an understatement for a while she was dumbstruck because Monsieur Jacques had never spoken to her in such tone before.

He'd always been soft spoken with her, he had always been too nice. Ever since she saw that painting, she'd been suspicious of his intentions.

"Why did you really hire me sir, why am I here? Answer me before I go insane, why do you need me here?"

"Why do I need you here?" Jacques asked. Halal nodded slowly unable to get out a meaningful sentence.

Jacques sighed before sitting down. "I had to be close to you Halal, when your aunt contacted me right before she died. I knew I had to be close to you" Monsieur Jacques said.

Halal looked at him "Aunt Patricia?" she asked wondering what Jacques had to do with her aunt Patricia.

Jacques nodded, he had a painful expression his face. "She contacted me before she died, she told me about you. She asked me to come over to Nigeria to meet you, I couldn't. I didn't know anything about you and I also didn't know if you'd accept me" Jacques said.

"Accept you as what?!" Halal spat. "Why did my aunt contact you, what do you want from me and why do you have a painting of me at your house?!" Halal shouted. Her heart was pounding loudly, she feared that it was going to continue thumping till it exploded.

"That is not a painting of you Halal. That's a painting of your mother, Marilyn Abraham" Jacques revealed.

"You're lying to me, my mother is not Marilyn Abraham. I knew my mother and that's not her painting at your house, stop lying to me. I don't want to hear this" Halal said covering her ears.

"I am your father Halal, a couple years ago I came to Nigeria to recruit models for a fashion campaign. I met your mother and I loved her Halal, you look exactly like her and every time I see you my heart aches" Jacques said, tears were spilling out of his eyes.

"She didn't tell me she was pregnant, Marilyn just dropped out of the campaign and ran away. I looked for her, every nook, every cranny. I couldn't find her, it was driving me insane. I couldn't understand why she would just leave without telling me, we were lovers, it didn't make any sense. I eventually found her parents, they told me Marilyn had been pregnant but she'd died along with the baby in child birth" Jacques said.

Halal remained silent, her entire body was shaking with rage and and fear. "Your aunt Patricia told me before she died that Marilyn had died in child birth but the child survived. Marilyn's parents had refused to accept the child, so her uncle. Your foster father took you to his wife, adopted you and raised you as their own" Jacques said.

Halal scoffed "You're a liar, Olive Abraham was not my foster father. He was my father and I am not adopted. I don't care about what you and aunt Patricia spoke about. I don't believe you!" Halal spat.

Jacques got up from his chair and walked over to her. "You remind me of myself Halal, you remind me of your mother. I loved you the minute I set my eyes on you and I wish that I was in your life from the very day you had been born. Please hear me out, please" Jacques begged.

Halal turned cold eyes to him "No, I refuse to believe your lies" she maintained.

"When I came back to Nigeria, I did a little research on you. I found out a lot of interesting things about you, that's how I knew that you spoke French because you'd taken French classes while you were in school, I talked to my lawyer about it and we came up with a plan. All we had to do was to share a sponsored ad on your Facebook timeline and wait. I wasn't sure if you'd be interested but I hoped that you would. How do you think you got the job so easily?" Jacques asked.

Halal shook her head "I quit" she said and walked out of the office.

She didn't care about what he said, she didn't believe him. Her biological parents were late, she wasn't adopted.

Monsieur Jacques was a liar.

It was Darrell who received her wrath when she got home. He'd been standing by the door when she parked and got out of the car.  He knew immediately that she was angry from the way she got out of the car, slammed the door and marched up to the house.

He could see the angry expression on her face when she got near him and wondered what had gotten her so angry.  She was about to walk past him when he caught her by the arm.

"Hey baby,  what's wrong?" Darrell asked. Halal pushed him off her furiously. "Hey baby, Oh are you done avoiding me? What, are you done locking yourself in your office, are you done avoiding my questions, are you done answering and making calls outside the house?" Halal yelled at him.

Darrell didn't answer immediately. He took a deep breath and thought of how to control the situation. Halal glared at him "Don't you dare act like you care about me!" she shoved him in the chest.

She was so mad, she wanted to hit something, hit someone, anything or anyone. She just wanted to do something that would sate the anger, the rage, the madness that was swirling within her.

She shoved Darrell in the chest again. "Get out of the way!" she yelled.

He noticed that her eyes were red and she was four five seconds from crying. He didn't dare tell her to calm down because he knew that would only infuriate her more.

"Halal, please talk to me. What's the matter with you, why are you so angry?" he said in a gentle voice that sounded like what a mother would use to talk to a child throwing a tantrum.

Halal pushed him again, she glared at him when she saw that he was making no move to get out of the way. Then she broke into tears and clutched his T-shirt.

"Why do I always get hurt by the people I care about? First it was Valentino, then you, and now Monsieur Jacques. I thought he cared about me,  he's nothing but a liar, a deceiver and a terrible person!" Halal sobbed against Darrell.

Darrell sighed rubbing her head soothingly. "Honey, tell me. What's the matter, what did monsieur Jacques say to you?" Darrell asked holding his breath. Halal shook her head, "No,  he was just lying. It doesn't matter" Halal shook her head.

"Tell me what he said" Darrell said. Halal pulled away from him and looked at his face. "Why do you care anyway? it's none of your business" Halal said spitefully.

"You're hurt, of course it's my business. I hate seeing you upset" Darrell said.

"He said horrible things, I don't want to talk about it" Halal closed her eyes. Her heart was hurting, she refused to believe she was adopted.

"Whatever he said, it's the truth" Darrell said gently causing Halal to open her eyes.

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked shooting him an annoyed look.

Darrell sighed,  he knew eventually he'd have to tell Halal the secret he'd carried for years.  The secret her aunt Patricia had revealed to him,  she'd insisted that when the time came Halal would need to hear it from him in order to believe her father.

When Jacques had called to tell him of his plan, he'd been against it.  He knew the effect it would have on Halal,  but Jacques and Halal were alike.  Both stubborn and hard headed whenever their mind was made up.

"Aunt Patricia, she called me a week before she was died.  She told me everything, she also told me not to tell you,  but to confirm your father's story when you learn the truth" Darrell said.

Halal sent him a death glare "My father Olive Abraham is dead" she maintained.

"I understand that you're in denial, but the truth remains that Jacques Legrand is your father" Darrell said.

"What did you just say to me? I dare you to tell me again that my father isn't Olive Abraham" Halal said steely.  Her eyes were glued to his, he saw insanity in hers, she saw resignation in his.

"Say it Darrell, say it again!" she shouted.

Darrell squared his shoulders, "I know you're looking for someone to take out your anger on Halal, take it out on me if you want. Hit me, will you be satisfied after that, will you accept Jacques after that, will that solve anything?" Darrell asked.

"I trusted you Darrell, how could you do this to me?" she asked. Her voice sounded broken and child like.

"Halal.... " Darrell began but she cut him off.

"How about Daria, does she know too?" Halal asked.

Darrell shook his head "Is that the truth?" Halal asked looking helpless. "Have you ever known me to be a liar?" Darrell asked.

Halal shook her head, turned away and walked back to her car, Darrell wanted to stop her but he didn't, he couldn't, there was nothing else to say. He only hoped she'd come back.

By the time Halal returned back to the hotel, she was broken. Darrell had never lied to her, it was the truth.

She had been adopted by the people she'd known and loved all her life as her parents. Her heart ached, how could aunt Patricia do this to her, how could Darrell too?

Halal picked up her phone and dialed her cousin Eva, she hoped Eva would answer because she had gotten no word from Eva ever since their talk about her father's Cartier watch.

Surprisingly, Eva answered on the first ring. "Halal, if you're calling about the wrist watch, I have nothing to say to you" Eva said the minute she answered.

"It's not about the wrist watch Evangeline. It's about your mother" Halal said.

She heard a pause before Eva spoke again "What about Patricia?" Eva asked.

"I just wanted to know if she ever told you anything about my father" Halal said.

"Your father? No, why?" Eva asked. Halal sighed, so Eva like Daria was also clueless.  Patricia only trusted Darrell, too bad she couldn't trust Darrell again.

Not after what had happened tonight, how could he keep such a secret from her?

"It's nothing, never mind. Thanks for your time" Halal sighed wiping a stray tear away.

"Look Lili, I know I haven't been much of a cousin or family to you but if you ever need someone to talk to.... I'm a good listener. You can talk to me" Eva said.

Halal smiled at the nickname, only Eva called her that. And she stopped calling her that when she turned ten. That was the year everything changed between her and Eva.

She wondered what had gone wrong. "Thank you E, take care of yourself" Halal said and ended the call.

She pulled the duvet closer to herself and stared at the picture of her father. Olive Abraham, she had no other father except him.

Darrell and Jacques can go to hell with their stories.