Chapter 7 - Gregory Came Back to Work With a Lawyer and Called Me the Criminal
Gregory returned to Apex on a Monday.
Not as an employee.
As an accuser.
He entered the lobby with two attorneys and filed a wrongful-termination claim.
His allegation was simple.
I had manipulated vendor records.
I had planted evidence.
I had developed an inappropriate relationship with Leo Marchetti to destroy Gregory’s career when he rejected me.
I laughed when I first heard it.
Then I realized other people believed him.
Anonymous social media posts appeared.
Apex Analyst Linked to Organized Crime Figure.
Employee Claims Harassment After Financial Irregularities Discovered Under Her Credentials.
Photographs surfaced.
Leo and me leaving the rehabilitation facility.
Leo entering my temporary building.
Me sitting inside one of his cars.
None proved anything.
Together they created a story.
And stories do not have to be true to ruin someone.
At Apex, coworkers avoided me.
HR suspended me “for my own protection.”
Janice would not meet my eyes.
I was furious.
Leo was worse.
“Give me Gregory’s address.”
“No.”
“I wasn't asking you.”
“Good, because I'm not giving it.”
His eyes narrowed.
“He is targeting you publicly.”
“Yes.”
“He endangered Ben.”
“Yes.”
“And you expect me to sit here?”
“I expect you not to prove every headline right.”
That stopped him.
I moved closer.
“If you threaten Gregory, I become exactly what he says I am.”
Leo’s jaw clenched.
“He deserves—”
“I don't care what he deserves.”
Silence.
“I care what we can prove.”
For a long moment he stared at me.
Then he nodded.
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Fine.”
I blinked.
“That's it?”
“Did you want a fight?”
“Kind of.”
One corner of his mouth moved.
That was the night I realized I no longer felt afraid when Leo became quiet.
I trusted that his silence was restraint.
Not punishment.
Federal investigators advised me not to respond publicly.
My attorney disagreed.
“You don't need a press conference. You need documents.”
So we released one thing.
Gregory’s security footage.
Only the section showing him grabbing my wrist after I said no.
No commentary.
No music.
No statement beyond:
This matter is under investigation. I stand by my testimony.
The video spread fast.
Gregory’s lawyers called it misleading.
Then a second woman contacted my attorney.
Her name was Tessa Warren.
Former executive assistant at Apex.
She quit two years earlier.
Gregory had harassed her too.
Then a third.
Then a fourth.
Different details.
Same pattern.
Late work nights.
Career promises.
Unwanted contact.
Threats disguised as performance advice.
Suddenly Gregory’s defense shifted.
He stopped denying behavior.
He claimed “workplace culture had been informal.”
I almost admired the cowardice.
Meanwhile, the financial investigation produced something much bigger.
The flash drive planted in my apartment contained a hidden directory investigators initially overlooked.
Inside was a list of container numbers.
Forty-eight shipments.
Every one passed through Ridgeway Therapeutic Services before reaching Apex distribution.
The rehab center wasn’t knowingly involved.
Someone used medical equipment shipments because they received less invasive commercial screening.
“What were they moving?” I asked.
Leo looked at the report.
“Counterfeit oncology drugs.”
My stomach turned.
Not cheap handbags.
Not untaxed cigarettes.
Fake cancer medicine.
Patients could have died.
Leo’s face looked carved from stone.
“This wasn't Rinaldi’s usual business.”
“You sound almost offended.”
“I am.”
“Because criminals have standards?”
“Some do.”
I shook my head.
“This is insane.”
“Yes.”
Investigators tracked profits.
Avery Cole received millions.
Gregory received bonuses.
A shell company paid someone identified only as AM-2.
Adrian Marchetti?
Leo refused to assume.
Then one of his men discovered a storage unit rented under Adrian’s old alias.
Federal agents obtained a warrant before Leo touched anything.
Inside were clothes.
Passports.
Cash.
And twelve audio recordings.
Adrian had been investigating Apex on his own.
He suspected Avery was using Marchetti routes without Leo’s knowledge.
One recording captured a meeting between Adrian and Gregory.
Gregory sounded nervous.
“You don’t understand who Cole answers to.”
Adrian replied:
“Then tell me.”
A long silence.
Gregory finally said:
“If Leo finds out, we're all dead.”
Adrian laughed.
“No. If Leo finds out, you're unemployed.”
Then another voice entered.
Older.
Calm.
A voice Leo recognized instantly.
His expression changed before the audio ended.
“Who is that?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
“Leo.”
He looked at me.
“My uncle.”
Salvatore Marchetti.
The man who had helped Leo take control of the family businesses after his father died.
His most trusted adviser.
His godfather.
The person Leo called second father.
Salvatore’s voice came through the recording.
“You should have stayed loyal, Adrian.”
Then a door slammed.
The recording ended.
Leo stood completely still.
For the first time, I saw what betrayal looked like on him.
Not rage.
Grief.
“Your uncle was working with Apex.”
“Yes.”
“And Adrian discovered it.”
“Yes.”
“Where is Salvatore now?”
Leo’s voice became very quiet.
“At my house.”
I stared.
“Right now?”
“He’s having dinner with my mother.”
Leo reached for his coat.
I caught his sleeve.
He stopped.
“No blood.”
His eyes met mine.
“He betrayed my family.”
“And if you kill him, Gregory wins.”
His breathing changed.
I could feel violence in the room without Leo moving an inch.
Then he looked at my hand on his sleeve.
I released it.
After several seconds, he took out his phone.
He called federal investigators.
“My uncle is at 41 Crescent Hill Road.”
A pause.
“I believe you’re going to want him alive.”
He ended the call.
Then sat down.
Not because he was calm.
Because choosing the right thing had cost him more than losing control would have.
I sat beside him.
I didn’t touch him.
Not until he turned his hand palm-up between us.
May you like
An invitation.
Only then did I place mine in it.
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