Brett's POV

I've been sitting in this car for four hours, watching a women's shelter like some kind of predator. The irony isn't lost on me Brett Graham, worth eight billion dollars, reduced to stalking the woman I destroyed.

My phone sits on the passenger seat, the last text thread still open. Three messages sent to Riley, no response to my final question. I scared her.

Maybe being scared is better than being indifferent.

The shelter's security lights cast harsh shadows across the courtyard ...