Audio File: Abigail Roberts #1 – Intro

Alright, let's do this. Holy shit, a journal, eh? I haven't even kept a diary since I was a kid and now I'm making an audio log. Alrighty then.

My name is Abigail Maya Roberts. I'm a lawyer here in Manhattan. Life was fairly normal up until 6 months ago, when my accountant parents were both arrested for embezzlement. It didn't matter than the money they stole was going to the bank accounts of families who were wronged- embezzlement was still embezzlement. I'd always considered my folks to be heroes. They actually tried to be ones in real life.

They should have gotten behind the law if they wanted to make things right. It's what I've been doing all this time. Was the law perfect? No. But it's a start.

At least… that's how I felt up until 3 days ago.

That's how long it's been since my attack and I'm finally able to speak clearly, without much pain. I've just been brought home to recover; I've got a staff looking out for me 24 hours. But still… I feel alone.

Fuckin' Randall De Luca. Leader of the Manhattan Crime Syndicate. Rumored, of course. No one's been able to prove his involvement. Everyone in the office told me not to fuck with him. Told me not to take the case. But was I supposed to do? Reject the poor woman's plea for justice for her husband, who'd been beaten half to death by his man? Hell no. I didn't become a lawyer to simply sit on my ass.

The husband was willing to testify that De Luca's second-in-command, Gino, was the one who had done the deed. That was all I had because any physical evidence "disappeared".

I was trying to get into my car when someone threw a bag over my head and squeezed my neck, as if they were trying to suck the life out of me. I fell unconscious and woke up in a warehouse, where I was seated on a chair. I wasn't tied to it because one of De Luca's thugs had his giant hand weighed down on my shoulder like an anchor.

I heard Brandon's cries for me. He was forced to his knees directly in front of me, with a revolver pointed to the side of his head.

And then there he was, standing in front of me in his ridiculously expensive suit – Randall De Luca himself – with that stupid fucking smirk on his face. A smirk that said he had won. He told me that this case will never happen. Because he had already taken care of Rebecca and Daniel for that.

My heart dropped to my stomach when I heard that. Rebecca was that poor woman, and Daniel was her husband, who had been beaten up by Gino.

"And now," He said, "I need to take care of you, dear Abigail."

Another one of his men then held a knife to my throat. I could see by his white sleeve that he was wearing a doctor's coat or something. I begged for De Luca to let Brandon go, as he had nothing to do with this. De Luca agreed, and ordered for the revolver to be lowered from Brandon's head.

My relief was shorted lived, because De Luca's final statement to me was that an ambulance was on its way.

That was when the knife swapped the right side of my neck. The pain coursed through me like fire and I fell to the floor, with Brandon hurrying to me and pressing his hands against my wound.

When I woke up in the hospital, the doctors told me I was lucky. That the person who slit my neck knew exactly where to do it so that any major arteries were avoided, allowing me to live. De Luca didn't want me to die. He just wanted me to know that he could kill me.

I just… I don't know how to explain how I feel right now. Empty, I suppose. I don't know how to function, how to move on. What did that even mean, anyway? Will I get justice for what happened to me? If so, how?

Everything is uncertain right now. That's just as bad as being alone.