Page 193 of Billion-Dollar Attitudes

"Would you like something to drink," I queried, motioning to the cup on her tray. "Or would you prefer something from the vending machine down the hall?" I offered. It was the least I could provide.

Amy shook her head and took a tentative sip. "No, this is fine," she said, a feeble smile playing on her lips. She shifted in the bed, wincing in pain. "How was the party?"

A rueful smile crept onto my face as I fought to control my emotions. "It was nice," I began, my words laden with remorse, "but it paled compared to how much everyone missed you." I studied her, seeking a glimpse of her inner turmoil. I reached for her hand but recoiled, unwilling to inflict more pain.

"Can you tell me anything about the person who did this to you? Even the FBI is still piecing the puzzle together."

Amy's face darkened with terror, and she shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it, Mitch. He threatened me and said he'd come after me again if I breathed a word. And this time, it would be for good."

Rage simmered within me, knowing someone had hurt her so deeply. But I had to stay collected. Losing my cool wouldn't help anyone. "I understand, Amy," I said gently. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But I want you to know I'm here for whatever you need."

Amy looked up at me with genuine gratitude. "I can't thank you enough, Mitch." Then someone entered the room, and her attention shifted. "Mum! Is that food for me?"

The woman turned to me with a beaming smile. "Are you my daughter's doctor?"

I stepped back from Amy's bedside, shaking my head politely. "No, ma'am."

"No, Mum, that's Mitch... my friend. He lives in San Diego." Amy gestured between us. "Mitch, this is Elana. I call her Mum."

"So, does that explain why there's a guard at your door, Amy?" She asked, raising an eyebrow and pointing toward the closed door.

Amy's eyes widened in surprise as she stammered hesitantly, "I... I don't know."

I cleared my throat, feeling both embarrassed and ashamed. "Actually, ma'am," I began, folding my hands in front of me nervously. "Rosedale Technology is providing 24-hour protection for Amy while she recovers, and it will continue when she returns to San Diego."

The woman frowned. "What makes you think she's going back there..."

"Mum... stop... please! I know you're worried about me, but I have to return to finish my classes..." Amy's voice trailed off.

"We can make arrangements for you to finish from home, Amy. Don't forget. Your dad has friends at the university. In fact, I think he's reaching out to the business school dean today."

"Mum, I'm famished. We can discuss this later. How's Papa feeling?"

As I quietly observed the mother and daughter, who bore a striking resemblance to each other, digging into their lasagna, an eerie sense I had stepped into a surreal time warp took control of my senses. Clearly, Amy wasn't critically injured, and Guy and Chase had been right to some degree. I felt trapped and bewildered. Pulling out my phone, I texted my Uber driver, who had dropped me off, to take me to my chalet. "Feel better soon, Amy," I said over my shoulder and reached for the door.

As we neared my property, climbing a steep hill with a sharp bend in the road, my driver halted abruptly. The reason was immediately apparent — my chalet was encased in vivid yellow tape emblazoned with FBI CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS.

Chapter One

Amy

Three Months Later

The breeze of change rustled through the air on this momentous graduation day. A blend of tranquility and anticipation swirled around me while I waited backstage at the open-air auditorium for my name to be announced. I held onto the hope that my life was about to embark on a more favorable path. Heaven knows I was in dire need of a reprieve after the last few months had tested my limits and beyond.

"Amy Elana Russo!"

With a deep, steadying breath, I stepped out onto the stage. The click-clack of my high heels on the wooden planks echoed the rhythm of my pounding heart, a mixture of pride for reaching this milestone and trepidation for the future. As the dean offered his congratulations, his handshake barely registered. Despite the ever-present anxiety hovering nearby, nothing could overshadow the magnificence of this moment!

Defying my father's wishes, I had returned to San Diego just a month after the attack. My determination carried me through as I worked tirelessly to achieve my goals, finishing all my exams within that time.

Today, I stood tall as an MBA graduate! My professors were extraordinary, providing unwavering support and accommodating me through Zoom meetings. Their assistance was invaluable in helping me reach this incredible milestone. Thankfully, my father's heart condition was manageable with medication. We eventually closed our family home near Vail, not far from Mitch's chalet, and my parents rented an opulent apartment by the beach to maintain a watchful presence.

Even before graduation, I attempted to line up pre-interviews for a new job. Papa had made it clear that he expected me to repay my college loan. However, as much as I yearned to land a position that would make him proud and grant me independence, my crippling anxiety always led me to cancel my appointments. I recognized the need for another step forward but felt overwhelmed by the prospect of venturing beyond my safe haven. "Now, go out there and make your mark," Papa had urged. But how could I secure a job? The thought of returning home and joining the family's ski equipment business, which had been in our bloodline for generations, did not appeal to me.

Scanning the crowd, I beamed at Ariel and Meagan's exuberant cheers. My gaze drifted to the empty seat where Mitch should have been, right beside them. Although his absence tugged at my heartstrings, I understood his hesitance to face my parents.

Despite missing Mitch, Ariel, and Meagan had become like family, particularly in the wake of the kidnapping ordeal. Even with their busy lives—Meagan attending to her twins, Lilly and Liam, and Ariel's son Jonathan, whom I used to babysit, taking his first steps—they had shown up for me today. As much as my parents could be challenging, I deeply valued their love and devotion. However, living under the same roof for an extended period was beginning to wear on me.

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