Chapter 8 - THE MAN WHO FOLLOWED ME FROM BOSTON
I thought the danger was behind me.
I was wrong.
Two days after returning to New York, I saw a familiar car outside my apartment.
A silver sedan.
Massachusetts plates.
My stomach dropped.
My ex-boyfriend.
Ethan Walker.
Ethan had been charming when we met.
Attentive.
Generous.
Protective.
Then his attention became surveillance.
His generosity became leverage.
His protection became control.
He checked my phone.
Questioned my friends.
Tracked my location.
And grew angry whenever I made decisions without him.
The night I left Boston, he had blocked the apartment door and told me I wasn't going anywhere.
I escaped while he was asleep.
Now he was outside my building.
I called the police.
Then I called Marisol, my closest friend in New York.
She came immediately.
Ethan was gone by the time officers arrived.
But I had photographs of his car.
And copies of threatening messages.
That evening, Alessandro called.
“Sophia, are you safe?”
I hesitated.
“How did you know?”
He paused.
“Marco told me you left work early.”
I closed my eyes.
“Alessandro, I need you to understand something.”
“Tell me.”
“I don't want another man monitoring my life.”
Silence.
Then he said, “You're right.”
I took a breath.
“I need space.”
“You have it.”
He didn't send guards.
Didn't arrive uninvited.
Didn't demand explanations.
Instead, he sent one message.
If you need help, ask. Otherwise, I trust you to decide what is best for you.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
For the first time in years, a powerful man had accepted the word no.
And that mattered more than any promise of protection.
