The first man looked down at DeAndre, still groaning on the floor, and raised an eyebrow.
“Should we handle this, Mr. Yu?”
Mr. Yu. That’s when I learned his name. Young Chul Yu. He glanced down at DeAndre with the kind of disgust you’d give a bug on your shoe.
“Call the police. Make sure they know about the restraining order.”
Then he looked at me. His expression softened just slightly. “Are you all right?”
I couldn’t speak. I just nodded, holding Nikia tight against me. She was still crying but quieter now, her face buried in my side.
“Mommy’s okay, baby,” I whispered, stroking her hair. “Mommy’s okay.”
Young Chul crouched down so he was at Nikia’s eye level. “You were very brave,” he said gently. “Your mother is lucky to have you.”
Nikia peeked at him, her eyes still wet with tears, and nodded.
Security finally arrived, followed quickly by the police. DeAndre was arrested on the spot. Young Chul gave a statement like he’d done it a hundred times before—calm, precise, unbothered. I gave mine while shaking so badly I could barely hold the pen.
Afterward, he walked us to my car. His bodyguard stayed a few steps behind, scanning the parking lot like he expected trouble.
“Thank you,” I managed to say. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t—”
“You don’t need to thank me,” he interrupted. “But you do need to be more careful. Men like him don’t stop.”
I knew that. I knew that better than anyone. “I have a restraining order,” I said weakly.
“A piece of paper won’t protect you.”
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a business card. “If he comes near you again, call me.”
I stared at the business card. Simple, expensive-looking—just his name and a phone number.
Nikia and I sat in the car for a long time before I could even start the engine. She crawled into my lap, something she hadn’t done in months, and we just held each other.
“Is Daddy going to come back?” she asked quietly.
“No, baby. Not anymore.”
