TENDER BETRAYAL (Mystery Romance): The TENDER Series ~ Book 3 Read online

  Toran took a deep breath and released it slowly. He wasn’t sure what had happened but suddenly there was this wall of hostility between him and Leah. He felt a surge of frustration. How could she not understand why this was important to him? This was his parents they were talking about! He needed to find out what had really happened to them—it was like an obsession eating away at him now—and he needed to make sure that justice was done. If his parents had been the victims of foul play, then he wanted to avenge them.

  He looked at Leah again and felt some of the tension leave him. The morning light played across the delicate features of her heart-shaped face and gleamed on the soft waves of her long brown hair. She was so beautiful and she could move him like no one else could. One look from her deep blue eyes and he would do anything for her. In many ways, he felt closer to Leah than to any other person in the world.

  And yet, sometimes, he felt like he barely knew her.

  Toran took another deep breath. “I haven’t promised Black Buddha anything unethical,” he said. He gave her a brooding look. “And I would have thought that you would be supporting me in my quest for the truth.”

  “I… I do support you,” said Leah quickly. “I just… I don’t know if it’s worth it. I mean, nothing is going to bring your parents back, is it?”

  He looked impatiently at her. “Of course it’s worth it! Finding out the truth is always worth it. I’m surprised you’re even doubting that, Leah.”

  She didn’t say anything, but turned to look out of the window at the street below them once more. Toran felt that wave of frustration again. What had got into her? He almost felt like he was sitting here with a stranger.

  The waitress arrived with their meals and Toran was glad of the interruption. The air between them was thick with tension and the food provided a welcome diversion. They ate for a minute in silence, then Leah spoke up hesitantly.

  “Julia’s invited me to spend the afternoon at her place. She’s organised some kind of girl’s pool party with some of her friends. It means that I’ll have to miss our match this evening. Do you mind?”

  “No, that’s fine,” Toran said, conscious of a guilty feeling of relief. He and Leah had recently joined the local tennis club and played some mixed doubles matches with other couples. But with the tense atmosphere between them at the moment, he wasn’t sure that spending more time together was the best idea. They had been spending a lot of time together lately, especially since Leah moved into his apartment. Perhaps a break away from each other would do them good.

  “Julia hasn’t roped you into some other mad scheme of hers, has she?” asked Toran with a wry smile.

  Leah laughed. “Who knows? I might get there to find that she’s decided we’re all dyeing our hair pink and she’s organised a tattoo artist to give us identical body art. Remember the time she decided that I would look better with violet eyes and bought me a year’s worth of purple contact lenses?”

  Toran rolled his eyes. “I’ve never met anyone as bossy as that friend of yours.” He gave a rueful laugh. “Actually, that’s not true—she kind of reminds me of my mum.”

  “Your mother?” said Leah in surprise.

  Toran nodded. “My mum was really bossy too—she liked to think she always knew best. Well, she did, most of the time. But sometimes she meddled a bit too much in other people’s business. She just didn’t do it as flamboyantly as Julia.”

  “No one does anything as flamboyantly as Julia,” chuckled Leah.

  “So… I’ll see you tonight then,” said Toran with a smile.

  Leah returned his smile and her hand crept across the table. Toran reached out to meet her and, as he felt the warmth of her fingers in his, he told himself that he was probably just imagining things. Every couple had to work out these kinks in the beginning, when they first merged their lives together. He and Leah had always been lovers at a distance—first as childhood sweethearts, then as uncertain strangers meeting again—so it was no surprise that, now that they were living together, they were discovering new aspects of each other’s personalities. No one was 100% perfect… wasn’t learning to accept that part of falling in love?

  CHAPTER 3

  Leah stepped up to the first spot in the taxi rank and waited for the taxi to slide into the rectangular slot marked out on the tarmac. Like most things in downtown Singapore, hailing a cab was strictly controlled with orderly queues at designated taxi ranks and punishing fines for picking up passengers in “no stopping” zones. Despite having been back for over two months now, Leah found that she still sometimes struggled to adapt to the regimented way of life in Singapore after living for so long in the U.K.

  The taxi was blessedly cool after the humid heat outside. Leah gave the driver Julia’s address, then settled back in the seat, relishing the feel of the cold air from the air conditioning blowing onto her face. A Chinese singer crooned softly on the radio and the taxi driver tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the music. Leah admired the clean comfortable interior of the car, then she caught sight of the taxi operator logo on the dashboard: “SONG TAXICAB ENTERPRISES”.

  This is Ah Song’s company, she realised, smiling to herself as she thought of her father’s old driver. He had been a comforting fixture in her childhood, ferrying her to and from school and various other destinations. His gentle affection and avuncular concern for her welfare had often helped to make up for her father’s emotional neglect.

  Leah frowned as she remembered a line from her father’s letter: “Ah Song brought the news last night”. She then remembered the old driver coming to see her in London and his cryptic comments about her father and Toran. What did Ah Song know? She needed to see him and find out.

  “I’m surprised you could tear yourself away from Toran’s side to come to my party,” said Julia with a teasing grin as she let Leah in the front door.

  Leah stepped into the marble foyer of the impressive mansion villa. Her childhood best friend had “married well” and was now one of the celebrated “tai-tai” set, the exclusive club of pampered wives married to the wealthiest men in Singapore society. But despite adulthood and marriage, Julia had hardly changed. She was still the bossy, bubbly girl who had befriended Leah at school and remained her closest friend, in spite of the years of separation when Leah had gone to boarding school and then to live in London.

  Now that Leah was back in Singapore, though, they seemed to have fallen effortlessly into the old pattern of their friendship, with Julia delighting in bossing her around again. Leah didn’t mind too much. She knew her friend meant well and it was nice to feel like someone cared enough to want to interfere in her life. Maybe it was because she had grown up motherless, in a cold household with a distant father who had never seemed very interested in her. In many ways, Julia was the mother, aunt, grandmother, and older sister that she had never had.

  “Toran and I aren’t joined at the hip, you know,” said Leah tartly.

  Julia’s smile widened. “Oooh, is there trouble in Paradise? Lovers’ tiff? Well you’ve been living together three weeks now… about time,” she said with a chuckle. Then her smile faded as she saw Leah’s face. “What’s wrong, Leah?”

  Leah shook her head. “I don’t know… Julia, I just don’t know what to do…”

  Julia glanced down the hallway towards the living room at the back of the house, which led out onto the rear terrace and swimming pool. Sounds of female chatter and laughter were drifting in from the outside.

  She took Leah’s arm and steered her in the opposite direction, down the hallway into another room, which looked like a private study. Bookshelves lining the walls and an enormous mahogany desk stood against the windows, accompanied by a deep leather executive chair. Various golfing trophies were displayed on the bookshelves and a photograph on the desk showed Julia standing next to a smiling Asian man who had his arms proudly around her. Leah recognised Julia’s husband, Arnold Yap. This must be his study. Julia shut the door behind her, then turned to Leah a
nd crossed her arms.

  “Okay, what’s going on?” she said

  Leah walked over to the desk and fiddled with a paperweight. “You know those letters that my father left me?”

  “The ones he never sent?” said Julia. “The ones you found in his hidden safe the first time you returned to Singapore?”

  Leah nodded. “I’ve been reading through them… and I found something which seems to suggest that he might be involved in Toran’s parents’ accident.”

  Julia raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean ‘involved’?”

  “Well… that maybe… that he might be responsible… that he might have wanted to harm them.”

  “What?”’

  “I could be wrong,” said Leah hastily.

  “How can you be wrong about something like that?” demanded Julia.

  Leah hesitated, then told Julia the whole story. When she finished, her friend looked at her, her almond eyes wide.

  “You’ve got to tell him,” said Julia. “You’ve got to tell Toran the truth.”

  Leah stiffened. “I can’t! We… We’re finally together. We’re happy. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardise things.”

  “Toran would understand—”

  “Would he? What if he doesn’t? How would you feel if you suddenly discovered that Arnold’s father had your parents killed?” asked Leah wildly.

  “You have to tell him,” insisted Julia. “If Toran ever found out that you’ve been keeping this from him, it would destroy his trust in you. You need to have trust in a relationship.”

  “That’s rich coming from you,” snapped Leah. “I thought you of all people would understand my situation. Trust isn’t something you seem to value in your own marriage, what with your liaisons and flirtations.”

  “That’s me,” said Julia, waving her hand dismissively. “You and Toran are different. You’re like… like… the ideal of how it’s meant to be! You’re the fairy-tale romance we all dream of. You have to do things the ‘right’ way.”

  “What are you talking about?” Leah stared at her. “I thought you didn’t believe in love and romance and all that sort of stuff. You’re the one who is always telling me that marriage is just a convenient arrangement that suits both parties.”

  Julia shrugged. “It is, for me. But it’s different for you. Love is a Western luxury. I’m Asian—I don’t fall in love, I fall into financial security.”

  Sometimes Leah wondered if her friend was really as cynical as she always sounded. Or did she just say those things to make herself feel better? She knew that Julia’s mother had been stuck in a loveless society marriage and had taught Julia to expect nothing else. The Singaporean girl had been raised with the idea of marriage as a business transaction, and an opportunity to achieve a certain social status and level of wealth. A way for a clever, resourceful woman to ensure a life of luxury and comfort, filled with designer labels, exotic holidays, and VIP treatment. It might seem crazy in this modern day and age—it might seem like something more suited to a Jane Austen novel—but this attitude was still alive and well in many Asian circles. “Marrying well” was as much a career goal for many women as becoming a top executive. A look through any of the Singapore society pages showed numerous examples of beautiful women—young models, singers, actresses—who had set themselves up for life as “trophy wives” of rich, older men.

  Leah looked at her friend, frowning. She wasn’t sure, though, that she believed Julia was happy being one of them.

  “That’s not true,” she said. “You know, I’ve had a chance to get to know Arnold a lot better now that I’m living in Singapore and I don’t think you give him a chance. He adores you, Julia.”

  “Yeah, as much as he adores all his other flings,” said Julia sarcastically.

  “How do you know he has other women?” asked Leah, exasperated.

  “All wealthy Asian men do,” said Julia, shrugging. “That’s what my mother told me. I just have to turn a blind eye—that’s my job as the official wife—but I’m certainly not going to lower myself to compete for my husband’s attention!”

  “I think you’re being unfair to Arnold,” said Leah. “You’re judging him and condemning him without any evidence. You can’t believe everything your mother says, just because she had a bitter experience. Who says Arnold has to be like all those unfaithful Asian men? I think he really does love you, Julia, but you keep him at a distance. You’re the one who’s preventing this marriage from becoming everything it could be.” Leah leaned forwards. “You could have your own fairy tale, you know, but I think you’re scared. You’re scared to let yourself care for him.”

  “Scared? I’m not scared,” said Julia defensively. “Anyway, how did this conversation become about me? We were talking about you and Toran.” She gripped Leah’s hands. “You have to tell him.”

  Leah hesitated, then sighed and nodded. “All right… I’ll tell him tonight.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Dinner was a bit subdued that evening and Leah felt like she and Toran were still tiptoeing around each other. As she prepared dinner in the open-plan kitchen, she looked up to see Toran sprawled on the lounge suite, idly watching CNN news on TV, and felt a rush of warmth at the domestic intimacy of the scene.

  She had never thought that they could get here one day—sharing their lives, looking forward to a future together. Somehow, after everything they’d been through, the mundane, simple pleasures of everyday life seemed more precious, more valuable, than grand gestures of romance. Stability and love was something Leah had never had in her home life and now that she had found it with Toran, she was desperate not to lose it.

  And she knew she could lose it all if she told Toran the truth.

  Leah sighed as she stirred the pasta through the salted water. She wanted to keep her promise to Julia; she wanted to make a clean breast of it to Toran, but she kept putting it off, telling herself that she was waiting for the “right moment” to bring the subject up. Several times already this evening, she had opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again.

  When they finally sat down to eat, Leah told herself that she would definitely speak now, but somehow she kept thinking, “After the next mouthful… After the next mouthful…” And then before she knew it, the meal was over and Toran was helping her to clean up in the kitchen. They stood side-by-side at the sink, their hands almost moving in unison as they cleared plates and cutlery, and stacked them in the dishwasher. And still Leah could not get the words out. They sat like a painful lump in her throat, choking her.

  When Toran drifted back in front of the TV, Leah followed and sat down next to him, although her eyes hardly took in what was playing across the screen. She was feverishly rehearsing what she was going to say, trying different combinations of words, different ways of broaching the topic, but no matter how she spun it, there was just no getting away from the awful truth: that her father could be responsible for his parents’ deaths.

  She was just thinking about getting up to make a cup of tea—she would talk to him after she had the tea, she promised herself—when Toran suddenly reached for the remote and muted the TV. He turned to her, his green eyes troubled.

  “Leah, what is it?” he asked gently. “You’ve hardly said a word all evening and you’ve been acting strange all day. There’s obviously something bothering you.”

  Leah sat up straighter and unclenched her hands. She licked her lips. “I—”

  The door buzzer rang.

  Leah sagged again as Toran got up to answer the door. Saved by the bell. Literally. She heard the murmur of conversation and recognised the other voice as that of Mrs Chang, an elderly widow who lived on the floor below. A minute later, Toran strode back into the living room.

  “It’s Mrs Chang. She’s got a problem with her modem—I’m going to pop down and take a look.” He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers. “We’ll talk when I get back.”

  Leah nodded, watching silently as Toran’s tall figure left
the room. Then she heard the soft thud of the front door closing. She let her breath out, leaning back against the couch cushions.

  The next moment, she jumped as a sudden ringing erupted next to her. She looked around. It was Toran’s mobile phone, which he had left on the coffee table. It vibrated against the table surface as it rang again and again. Leah hesitated, leaning forwards to look at the screen. The number looked vaguely familiar. Where had she seen that number before?

  She hesitated and was just about to reach for the phone when the ringing stopped. A “MISSED CALL” message flashed up in the corner of the screen. Then it beeped again. The icon for a new answerphone message flashed in the other corner.

  Leah bit her lip. She glanced at the front door, then back at the phone. On an impulse, she reached out and picked it up. She knew Toran’s passcode to unlock the phone—she had seen him key it in often enough—and her fingers hesitated over the keypad.

  What am I doing? she asked herself. She’d always despised women who sneakily accessed their boyfriend’s or husband’s phones without permission. Even if they did find evidence of cheating, she always thought it was sad and pathetic that they had to resort to such underhanded measures to check up on their partners. If they felt that they had to do that, then there was no point in the relationship anyway, she had always claimed self-righteously.

  So what was she doing now? Wasn’t she contemplating doing something similar?

  But it was as if her hands had a life of their own. Even as she condemned the action in her mind, her fingers were already keying the numbers in. The phone was unlocked and she was retrieving the message before she realised what she was doing. Leah held the phone up to her ear and listened, her heart thumping. A robotic voice announced that there was one new message and then a different voice—rough and low—sounded in her ear.

  “Black Buddha has decided to accept your offer. Go to Lau Pa Sat tomorrow at 6 p.m. Stall 72.”