Chapter 3

Later that night, I was sitting in my living room when the front door burst open.

Just like before.

Molly stumbled in, her clothes artfully torn, a dramatic bruise already forming on her cheek. Her father followed right behind her, his face red with fake rage.

And my mother, Debra, was right there with them, rushing to Molly's side with a blanket, playing the part of the concerned aunt.

"Gabrielle, what did you do?" my mother cried out, her voice filled with accusation.

Molly pointed a trembling finger at me, tears streaming down her face. "The waiter said you and your date had a huge fight! You were angry, so you gave him my address, didn't you? You sent him after me to get revenge!"

Her father started stomping around the room, his voice a low growl. "You little bitch. You set my daughter up."

I remained calm on the sofa. I had been waiting for this.

"That' s a serious accusation, Molly," I said, my voice even. "We should call the police. They can take a DNA sample from your attacker. We need to catch this monster."

Molly's face went pale. Debra froze.

"No, don't call the police!" Molly shrieked. "It'll just be my word against his! He's rich!"

"All the more reason to get evidence," I replied, holding my phone up. "I'm calling 911."

Molly's father lunged at me. "You put that phone down!"

He raised his fist, ready to strike, ready to kill me again.

But before his fist could connect, the front door swung open again.

"Did someone forget a wallet?"

Ethan Lester stood in the doorway, holding my wallet. He took in the scene in an instant-Molly' s fake tears, her father' s violent rage, my mother' s panicked expression.

He moved fast. As Molly's father swung at me, Ethan stepped in, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back, forcing him to his knees with a cry of pain.

The room fell silent, stunned.

Then, Molly, in her shock, blurted out the one word that would unravel everything.

"Boss?"