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I crossed my arms. What was he going to say to her?
Neil shakily picked up the call. “Hello?” As he listened, his expression turned grave. “Understood,” he said. Then he faced me. “The chairman is dead. We have to leave. Right now.”
Winston drove Neil and me to our apartment building. In the basement carpark, Neil rounded the car and wrenched open my door before I’d finished fumbling with my seatbelt. His hand closed over my elbow, propelling me from the vehicle. “Hurry. Time is of the essence.”
In a daze, I allowed him to steer me towards the lift. “What’s happening?”
“The shit has officially hit the fan, and if Daniel wants to punish me, his best course of action would be to harm you.”
“I’m in danger?”
“I don’t know how much Daniel knows about us, but we have to play it safe. My priority is getting you as far away from him and his cronies as possible.”
“How?”
“You’re going to London.”
“But my flight’s still weeks away?—”
Neil shook his head. “Change of plans. You’re leaving today.”
“You want me to drop everything and flee the country?”
“Yes.”
“And if I disagree?”
“That would be very unwise indeed.”
My head swam. I swiped a shaking hand down my face.
“Pack your luggage and go straight to the airport,” Neil instructed as we rode up to my floor. “Winston will drive you there. Get on the next available flight to London—one without a stopover in Singapore.” He rummaged in his pocket, extracted his wallet, then slipped out a credit card. “Use this.” He pressed the card into my limp hand.
I stared at his name embossed on black plastic.
“And this.” He gave me another card—a business card. “I want you to contact this man—Alan Dixon—once you’re in London. Tell him you want to apply for a job. He’ll ask you to come in for an interview?—”
Neil continued to speak, but the words blurred together. I swayed on my feet.
“Whoa.” Neil caught my shoulders, steadying me.
The door lurched open, and we stepped out.
“Are you okay?” Neil asked. “I know this is a lot to take in.”
I didn’t answer.
“Hey, look at me.”
I raised my eyes to meet his. The hard lines of his face had smoothed into an expression that was tender and earnest. He cupped my cheek. “I don’t want to send you away, but I have to, to ensure you’re as far from danger as possible. Do you understand? I need you to trust me, Milly. Please. You’re everything to me, and I…” His throat worked. “I want to protect you. This is hard for me. The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Believe me. If I lost you, I—I couldn’t live with myself.” Tears had gathered in his eyes.
My heart stirred. But how could I trust him when he had concealed the truth about Veronica’s baby from me?
I remembered that day months ago on the roof, when Neil had warned me, “Trust no one.” His cynical advice had struck me as extreme—even sad. But I was starting to comprehend the hard lessons that had ingrained those words within him.
“Trust no one,” I said.
“What?”
