All the Lies (Lies & Truths 1)

“You are, but you’re also Gareth Ellis’ only heir. Our families don’t like attention from anyone, police included.”

There’s something he’s not telling me, but what?

His face breaks into a smile and I recognize that he shut off the subject altogether. “My house is your house. And don’t worry, Blackwood College isn’t far.”

“Okay.” I would rather stay with someone who clearly cares about my well-being than being alone anyway.

“Are you ready to go home, Reina?”

Does it matter when I don’t even know where my home is?

Home is a mansion.

The house is three stories and so big I don’t see the end of it. It’s even located on the outskirts of town, which means Alexander is a private man.

The entire front of the house is made of glass. The whole scene seems more like a monumental museum than a place where people live.

A circular garden surrounds the front of the house with trees cut into geometrical shapes. Beds of colorful tulips and roses decorate the space between trees.

A kidney-shaped pool sits in the distance. A low, thumping of music comes from that direction.

Alexander pushes my wheelchair, telling me about the house, how I brought it to life when I used to live here and how he left my room unchanged. He shows me the vast grassy area where I used to practice my moves for the cheerleading squad.

Apparently, I’ve been a cheerleader since high school. Even though I’m studying human sciences at Blackwood, I still cheer for the team.

Seriously, why the hell would I continue doing that stuff three years after high school?

The more I learn about myself, the clearer the picture becomes.

My entire life is like a jigsaw of plastic pieces.

I’m rich—well, Alexander is. My father could’ve been rich too since he was best friends with him.

“What did my father do?” I ask Alexander.

“Gareth was a real estate mogul.” His tone is sad, and it affects me, too.

“So he was rich?”

“Rich?” He laughs with no humor. “He was a tycoon, Rei. He owned half of Blackwood, and now you do, of course.”

I couldn’t care less whether I’m rich or not, but for some reason, I’m glad I have some sort of independence. I’d hate to think Alex took me in as a type of charity case.

“Your father was…” He trails off as if weighing his words. “He had some connection to a bad crowd, so if you remember anything, tell me first.”

My spine jerks upright as I slowly turn around in my chair. Alex stands there with a neutral expression.

“What type of bad crowd?”

“It’s better if you don’t know.”

“I knew before I lost my memories, right?”

“Not exactly.”

“Alex.” My tone turns pleading. “Have you seen my face? Someone wanted me dead. If there’s a threat to my life, I have the right to know.”

He halts in front of majestic double doors with a black and white marble pattern, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Gareth did business with the mafia. Italian, Russian. You name it.”