Chapter 9 - The Woman Before Me
The protective order was granted Sunday morning.
Grant was barred from contacting me directly.
He was ordered to remain away from my father's residences and offices.
Then another woman called.
Her name was Hannah Reed.
I had never heard of her.
She asked to speak privately.
We met in one of Rachel's conference rooms.
Hannah was forty-two.
Elegant.
Composed.
And terrified.
“I dated Grant before you.”
My stomach tightened.
“How long?”
“Three years.”
That meant she had known him immediately before I did.
“What do you want?”
“To make sure he doesn't do to you what he did to me.”
She placed an old phone on the table.
Grant had borrowed money from Hannah.
Nearly four hundred thousand dollars.
When she asked for repayment, he threatened to release private photographs.
When she threatened legal action, he broke into her apartment.
Police were called.
Charges disappeared.
“Richard Voss?”
I asked.
Hannah stared at me.
“How do you know that name?”
My answer told her everything.
She opened the phone.
There were messages.
Threats.
Photographs of bruises.
A recording.
Grant's voice.
“You don't leave me.”
“You understand?”
“You leave when I decide you're finished.”
My hands turned cold.
It was eleven years old.
The words sounded exactly like the man I had married.
“Why didn't you expose him?”
“I tried.”
Hannah looked ashamed.
“His attorney threatened me.”
“My employer started receiving complaints.”
“My landlord suddenly refused to renew my lease.”
“My younger brother was arrested after drugs appeared in his car.”
Arthur, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke.
“Was your brother convicted?”
“No.”
“Who handled the arrest?”
“I don't know.”
Rachel did.
The officer had later joined a private security company partially owned by Richard Voss.
Patterns were forming.
Grant had not become dangerous after marrying me.
He had been dangerous long before we met.
He had simply become wealthier.
More protected.
More confident.
Hannah looked at my bruised face.
“I saw your picture on a private legal alert.”
“I knew immediately.”
She swallowed.
“Men like Grant don't stop because they feel guilty.”
“They stop when they lose the power to keep going.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Because for days, I had thought this was about revenge.
It wasn't anymore.
It was about removing the machinery that had allowed Grant to hurt people without consequences.
May you like
And now we knew the machinery had a name.
Richard Voss.
