Protect His Secretary, Abandon His Wife

The dim glow of my apartment barely illuminated the phone clutched in my trembling hands. Eight years with David, and our last conversation still burned in my mind like acid. He'd promised - sworn - to meet me at the police station after my attempted kidnapping. Typical David. All promises, no follow-through.

Tears blurred my vision as I relived the nightmare - two armed men bursting into my home, the frantic 911 call, the miraculous police response. They'd told me to come give a statement, and like a fool, I'd actually believed David would show up for once.

My attention snapped to the TV where a news segment showed my boyfriend laughing arm-in-arm with his secretary Cinthia Grey at some concert. Business tycoon David Williams, always too busy for his traumatized girlfriend but never too busy for public appearances with his assistant.

The phone's sudden vibration startled me. David's name flashed on the screen.

"Rosaline, I'm busy," came his icy greeting. "What do you want?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I was nearly kidnapped today. I thought you might care."

A dismissive sigh. "Can't this wait?"

The coldness in his voice sent shivers down my spine. "You're not even going to pretend?" My whisper barely carried.

"I don't have time for drama," he snapped before I hung up, my entire body numb. This wasn't just his usual emotional unavailability - this was cruelty.

A knock at the door made me jump. Through the peephole, I recognized the officer from earlier. "We need to place you in protective custody," he said firmly. "These men might come back."

For the first time that day, I breathed easier. Someone actually gave a damn about my safety.

As we left, the TV reporter's voice followed me: "Here's another shot of David Williams enjoying the concert with Cinthia Grey!" Their smiling faces made me sick.

At the station, my pulse raced as we passed holding cells. A kind-faced female officer sat across from me, her eyes warm with concern. "Rosaline, can you describe your attackers?"

I struggled through the memory, my mouth dry. "Masks... they threw me in a van... just kept saying I should tell David to 'back off.'"

"Back off from what?" she pressed.