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I bring the phone to my ear and scream.

“Gabriella?” Brad's voice calls out. I almost buckle with relief that he’s still there.

“There’s someone in my apartment. Help me, please,” I wail as I try to close the bathroom door, but a strong hand clamps around the door and I drop the phone.

I reach for anything I can find and begin throwing them at him. Everything hits him, but he doesn’t flinch.

“You are going to fucking pay for that, bitch,” he growls, reaching for me. I throw my hands up to shield myself, my chest burning, my body no longer feeling like it belongs to me. I shove him, but he shoves me harder. I lose my balance and tumble backward into the tub and my entire world goes dark…

Chapter Fifty Eight

Brad

I am putting out fires all over the place today and it feels good to finally tie up all these loose ends so Gabriella and I can get on with our lives. Patrick has been dealt with, I’m visiting her parents with her this weekend to tell them about us and I’ve called Amy in to the club to have a chat.

I lied and said she needed to fill out some forms to officially terminate her employment. Little does she know, I’m on to her and know what she’s been doing. My usual go to in situations like this would be my one glass of whiskey, but I settle for coffee, knowing I need to be level headed for this. Since Gabriella and I admitted our love for each other, my need for control has lessened. I’ve learned that the world doesn’t fall apart if I miss a workout, if I have two whiskeys instead of one I haven’t fallen off the sobriety wagon that I never needed to be on. No, shehas taught me that the world doesn’t end if I don’t follow the same steps each day. She healed a part of me I thought would be forever broken, and for that, I owe her everything.

A soft knock sounds at my office door.

“Come in.” I call out.

Amy, sweet, quiet, mousey Amy, stands in my office doorway, dressed in light jeans and a white cardigan. Her glasses perched at the end of her nose and her straight brown hair meets her shoulders.

“Hello,” she says so quietly I almost miss it.

“Please sit.” I gesture to the seat on the opposite side of my desk.

She sits down, her eyes darting round the room nervously.

A thick silence falls between us as I stare blankly at her.

“You… you needed me to file some paperwork?”

“No.” I open the drawer on my desk, pulling out the file, which includes every transaction of Amy’s deceit. I slam it down on the desk and she flinches. “I want you to tell me why you have been stealing our money.”

She looks down at her lap, avoiding my gaze.

“Amy,” I say sternly. “You can tell me or the police. Your choice.”

‘No, please, don’t call the police. I will pay you back. I…” Her lip trembles and she cradles her face in her hands and sobs.

I have no patience for this. “Start talking, now.”

She sniffs, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I used to do some volunteer work at a local shelter, for people who were transitioning from prison to real life again. One of the organizers handed out a flyer, pen pals for prisoners. So, I got talking to a few guys on there, and I got paired with Matteo, and we fell in love over letters.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Matteo?”

“Yes,” she says quietly, avoiding my gaze.

“As in Matteo Russo, my brother?”

She nods and I slam my hand on the desk in frustration and she flinches.

“Keep talking Amy,” I yell.

“He told me his story, and my heart broke for him.”