Chapter 10 - What He Promised His Son
Nia hated that Malik knew anything.
Not because the eight-year-old had done something wrong.
Because Andre had made a child part of an adult fantasy.
Keisha promised not to question Malik further.
“We’re not using him for evidence,” Nia said.
“I agree.”
“Whatever Andre told him, let him be a kid.”
“I agree.”
That boundary became the first uncomplicated thing between them.
The next morning, Nia searched for commercial property associated with the lot she had photographed through the office door.
It was listed at $690,000.
Former warehouse.
Zoned for mixed commercial use.
A concept drawing on the listing showed how it might become a fitness center.
Andre had talked about a gym when they were dating.
Not a chain.
A youth performance center where kids could train after school.
Nia had liked the dream.
She had even designed a logo for him once as a joke.
Wells Performance Lab.
Then marriage, mortgage payments, children, and careers happened.
Andre rarely mentioned it anymore.
Nia suddenly wondered if she had mistaken silence for surrender.
That evening, Denise asked to meet.
They chose a park.
Denise sat on a bench holding a folder.
“I should’ve told you.”
Nia remained standing.
“Yes.”
“I told myself it wasn’t my place.”
“You let him use your company.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Denise looked toward the walking trail.
“When Andre was twelve, his father promised him they would open a gym together.”
Nia sat.
She had never heard this.
“His father trained boxers. Nothing professional. Just neighborhood kids.”
“What happened?”
“He left before they ever did it.”
Nia understood another piece.
“Wells Family Ventures.”
Denise nodded.
“He told me he wanted to build something his father failed to build.”
“That explains the dream.”
“It doesn’t excuse the lying.”
Nia looked at her.
It was the first time Denise had said it plainly.
“No.”
Denise opened the folder.
“These are statements from DW Consulting.”
Nia took them.
The eighty-five hundred Andre transferred had indeed entered Denise’s old business account.
Three months later, Denise sent the entire amount to Andre’s personal account.
“I never kept any.”
“I didn’t think you did.”
“I should have asked where it came from.”
“Yes.”
Denise’s eyes filled.
“I wanted to believe I was helping my son protect his future.”
“By helping him hide money from his wife.”
“Yes.”
The word cost her.
Nia appreciated that.
“Did Andre ever talk about leaving me?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Not until last night.”
Nia turned.
“What did he say?”
“He said maybe you two had become incompatible.”
Nia almost laughed.
“Interesting timing.”
Denise nodded sadly.
“He’s rewriting it now.”
That sentence surprised Nia.
“You see that?”
“I watched his father do it.”
Nia studied her.
“Then why help him?”
Denise’s face crumpled.
“Because sometimes surviving something doesn’t make you wiser. It makes you afraid.”
They sat silently.
Denise continued.
“I was afraid if Andre didn’t protect himself, he’d end up like me.”
“And instead?”
“I helped him behave like his father.”
Nia looked away.
The wind moved through the trees.
“What else do you know?”
Denise reached into the folder.
“He asked me last year whether I would invest if he opened the gym.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have twenty-five thousand to gamble.”
“What did he say?”
“That he’d find another way.”
Nia thought of the home equity.
“What else?”
“He had a partner.”
“Who?”
“I never met him.”
“Name?”
Denise hesitated.
“Darius Cole.”
Nia searched the name.
Darius operated three boutique fitness facilities around Atlanta.
Successful enough to make Andre’s dream plausible.
Nia found a company website.
One announcement stood out.
Cole Performance Group exploring fourth metro location.
Dated six months earlier.
Nia’s phone buzzed.
Keisha.
I found the gym messages. Sending now.
Screenshots arrived.
Andre to Keisha:
Once I get the house equity loose, Darius is ready.
Another:
Nia will sign if I make it about lowering the mortgage payment.
Nia’s hands began trembling.
Then the final message:
After the gym closes, I won’t need her income anymore.
Nia read that sentence repeatedly.
Not we won’t need her income.
I won’t.
The financial scheme had never simply been about investing.
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Andre had been planning for independence.
And he had expected Nia to finance it.
