Page 79 of Shattered Secrets
“Mr. and Mrs. Wolf,” she says. “I wanted Ethan to reconcile with you because I believe there’s only one family. I was sure he was just exaggerating when he claimed you wouldn’t forgive him, but I heard what you just said, and I’m no longer sure I want him to reconcile with you. I love him, and we’re a couple, whether or not you like it. The only one who can tell me to go is Ethan.” She looks between the two of them, then fixes her blue eyes on mine before turning back to them. “You’ll have to accept me or neither of us.”
I see her love for me reflected in her eyes. How can she not see how strong she is?
I interlace her fingers with mine, and she pulls me away from them.
CHAPTER32
Ayala
Today is my first day at Savee.
The conversation with Paul Sheridan was wonderful. We met right after Christmas, and I liked him right away. His passion for helping and his dedication to making the world better amazes me.
I presented him with several ideas, and my fear that Ethan was prompting him to like whatever I suggested evaporated. Paul has been direct and honest. He has no problem rejecting anything he doesn’t like and being enthusiastic about what he does.
Right after the briefing with Paul, I sit down and start planning. One of my first tasks is to plan a large recruitment campaign.
There isn’t enough money. I go through the reports that Paul shared with me, and that’s the first thing I realize there are a lot of good ideas here, but not enough revenue to put them into action.
“What are these?” I point and turn the screen to Paul so he can see what I’m talking about.
“Transfers of money into the company.”
“Yes, I can see that. What I meant to ask is, why is the name of the donor not mentioned? These are transfers of millions every month.”
“Ah. These are transfers from Ethan Wolf.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of money.”
“Yes.” Paul catches my eye. “You probably know the story. When Ethan founded the company, he quickly realized that to make Savee a reality, he needed more money. He hired me to manage Savee so he could build his business empire to fund it. Every month he transfers a large part of his income here as a donation. That’s how he makes sure we can keep expanding all the time. We started as a application for people considering suicide, and now we handle almost every issue—from domestic abuse to neighbor disputes.”
I nod. I knew the story. I just didn’t think it was of such magnitude.
“After I finish with this recruitment campaign, the first issue I want to promote is the closest to my heart. Family abuse. Support for abused women, and especially early detection of men with the potential for violence.”
Paul looks at me with interest. “What do you mean, early detection?”
“Men don’t start beating their wives just like that. There are early signs. There are patterns of behavior. We can come up with a program to detect them, even before they enter a relationship, and treat them. We can teach them.”
“That’s an interesting idea.”
“I believe that if we detect them at an early age, such as in high school, they’ll cooperate willingly to learn how to conduct themselves in a relationship. We’ll carry out tests to identify those at the highest risk, and they can receive psychological support along the way.”
I drift into my speech. “My husband, Michael, didn’t start as an abusive partner either. The signs were there, but I didn’t know how to read them. We need to teach women that. We should hold free workshops for women on these early signs. What to expect. What to do. The police won’t get involved if a woman comes in and claims her husband is preventing her from seeing friends, but that’s a bright red sign. They need a place where they can turn to and get help.”
“I like this direction. Sit with our creative team and design a campaign. Let’s see where it goes and run it.”
“And the recruitment campaign?”
“Can you run both at the same time?”
I nod and sink into the work. I enjoyed working at the magazine, but here, there’s a sense of a mission. I feel good knowing I’m influencing and contributing.
Deep into the morning, I raise my head to a knock on the door. A messenger stands at the door of my office, holding a huge bouquet in front of his face. A smile spreads across mine. It’s probably from Ethan.
“Can you put them on the desk?” I ask.
“I was hoping to get a thank you, too,” the messenger says, and my eyes widen.
