Chapter 2

That night, I didn' t sleep. I drove my Porsche straight from San Jose to San Francisco and checked into the Four Seasons. The next morning, I called a top real estate agent. By noon, I was signing the papers for a multi-million dollar condo in Pacific Heights. It was a sleek, modern fortress in a high-rise with 24/7 security and breathtaking views of the Golden Gate Bridge.

I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city spread out below me. This was my space. My sanctuary. I took a picture of the view and posted it to my private Instagram. The caption was simple: "New beginnings."

It didn't take long. My phone buzzed, then buzzed again, and again. A flood of texts and voicemails from Brian.

"A new condo? Are you insane? That' s my wedding money! You' re just wasting it on yourself!"

"You selfish bitch! Mom is crying her eyes out because of you! You need to come home and apologize!"

"Answer your phone, Gabrielle! I' m serious! You owe me for this!"

I deleted every message without listening to the end. I blocked his number, my mother' s, and my father' s. Then I called my aunt, my mother' s estranged sister who lived in Oregon. She was the only person in my family who had ever shown me an ounce of real kindness.

"Aunt Carol? It' s Gabrielle."

"Gabby! Honey, is everything okay? You sound... different."

"Everything is finally going to be okay," I said. "I just wanted to hear your voice."

We talked for an hour. I didn' t tell her about the rebirth, but I told her I was cutting ties with the family. She wasn' t surprised. She just offered her support, no questions asked.

The next morning, my new building' s concierge called my unit. "Ms. Johns, I' m sorry to disturb you, but your brother and a woman are here. They' re causing a disturbance in the lobby."

I walked over to the security monitor. There they were. Brian and Sabrina, yelling at the front desk staff.

"She' s my sister! We have a family emergency!" Brian shouted, his face contorted with rage.

Sabrina was trying a different tactic, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "Please, we' re just so worried about her."

The security guard was a large, imposing man who looked completely unfazed. "Sir, she has not authorized your entry. You need to leave."

Brian lost it. He slammed his fists on the marble counter, then kicked a large decorative vase, shattering it on the floor. "I' m not leaving until I see her!"

I picked up my phone and dialed 911. "I' d like to report a trespassing and vandalism in progress at my building," I said calmly.

Then I called down to the front desk. "This is Gabrielle Johns. The two people in the lobby are not welcome here. I have just called the police. Please ensure they do not leave before the officers arrive."

I watched on the monitor as two SFPD officers walked in. Brian tried to argue, but they cuffed him without hesitation. Sabrina started wailing, pleading with them, claiming it was all a "family misunderstanding." I turned the monitor off.

A few hours later, I got a call from a restricted number. It was Sabrina.

"Gabrielle, you have to drop the charges! Brian is in jail! This is insane, it' s just a family matter!"

"It stopped being a family matter when he trespassed and destroyed private property," I said, my voice flat. "This is a criminal matter now."

"But what will people say? Our wedding is in a few weeks!"

"That sounds like a 'you' problem, not a 'me' problem."

I hung up. My next call was to the best security firm in the city. By the end of the day, I had a full-time, professional bodyguard named Alex. He was a former special forces operative, quiet, professional, and built like a brick wall. He would be my shadow from now on.