Abigail“Abigail’s right.”Conrad’s agreement caught me off guard, so much so that I almost didn’t believe my ears. The surprise must have shown on my face, but I quickly masked it.Apparently, Susanna didn’t believe her ears as well, as her face twisted into a picture of wounded disbelief. She looked as if she'd just been betrayed by her most loyal supporter.“What?” she said, her voice high-pitched.“Abigail’s right,” he repeated firmly, turning to Susanna with a seriousness that had only been directed at me before and never her. “Harry is at an age where recklessness can lead to disaster. What if it had been y
AbigailThe house was quiet when I heard the soft creak of the door to the game room opening.Conrad stepped into the room, his tie loosened and his jacket draped over one arm. His face was shadowed with exhaustion, but there was something else there—maybe remorse? He hovered near the doorway, looking at me as though he wasn’t sure if he was welcome.“You’re up,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of surprise. I don’t know why he would be so surprised. It was almost ten at night and he hadn’t been home. How could I sleep?I shrugged, placing another card down on the table. “ How come you're back? Don't you need to stay with Susanna?”He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his movements uncertain. “After all this, you must need me. I just want to make sure you're okay. Abigail... earlier today, at the station—were you hurt?”The question caught me off guard. “No,” I said simply, “I’m fine.”Conrad exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Good. Harry’s be
AbigailThe robins outside my window chirped cheerfully as I got out of bed and stretched my tired body, but I was immune to their happiness. It was as if ice had settled over my heart as I realized Conrad was still not home. My night had been full of restless sleep and scattered thoughts, and now, as I padded toward the kitchen to make a cup of tea, the sharp ring of the study phone cut through the quiet.It rang once. Twice. No one answered.With a sigh, I turned toward the study. Conrad usually never left the house this early without checking in, but he wasn’t here now. Pushing the door open, I crossed the room and picked up the receiver.“Hello?” I said, clearing my throat so I didn’t sound sleepy.The man on the other end exhaled audibly, relief clear in his tone. “Thank goodness, someone answered. This is Daniel. Are you Abigail? Do you know where Mr. Conrad Remington is? I’ve been trying to reach Mr. Conrad all night on an urgent matter, but he hasn’t returned any of my calls to
AbigailMarcy’s expression didn’t falter, and for a moment, I wondered if Liliana had promised her something.Liliana sighed like the drama queen she was turning out to be. “This is a misunderstanding, I’m sure. Why don’t we calm down and figure out where the jewelry is?”“Don’t patronize me,” I snapped. “This isn’t a misunderstanding. It’s manipulation.”“Abigail,” Conrad said, his voice low, “let’s not escalate this.”I rounded on him. “Are you seriously questioning me right now? After everything?”“I just—” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair.“You’re right to hesitate,” I said sharply. “Because if you side with them, Conrad, I will not forgive you.”I leveled a mocking glance at Liliana. She stood there as if this entire charade wasn’t her doing. The anger in the chest begged for release, and I let it fist my words with venom. “Is this what you wanted, Liliana?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “To embarrass me like this? Tell me, was this little performance Susan
AbigailThe air in the room shifted the moment Marceline entered. Her presence commanded the kind of attention no one dared ignore. She stood there, sharp and commanding, her gaze sweeping over us like a storm about to break. Her eyes landed on Liliana, lingering with the kind of intensity that could make even the boldest person stop in their tracks. Marceline’s lips pressed into a thin line as she turned to Conrad."And who, may I ask, is this?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the tense silence.Conrad cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Mother, this is Liliana. She’s Susanna’s sister and—”Marceline cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand, her gaze never leaving Liliana. “I didn’t ask for her life story, Conrad.” Her tone was ice. “Our family’s been very busy lately, and we don’t have time to take in Susanna’s relatives.”I bit back the urge to grin as Liliana stiffened, her practiced expression faltering for a split second.Conrad, ever the peacemaker when it suited him
Abigail****Marceline’s fork paused midair, and she looked at Conrad with an arched brow. “Well,” she said, setting her silverware down with practiced grace. “If you insist.”But the conversation didn’t die there. Marceline switched topics easily and launched into a tale about her close friend Penelope and her heartbreak over her children’s refusal to settle down.“Imagine,” Marceline said, her voice carrying an undercurrent of disapproval, “both the boy and the girl, as successful as they are, are nearing forty and still have no spouses. No grandchildren. It’s shameful, really. I told her just the other day how fortunate I am that my Alexander and Conrad never gave me such grief.”I forced a smile, nodding in hopes of keeping the conversation alive. “Penelope must be worried,” I offered, my voice carrying the pity I knew my mother-in-law would want to hear.“She is,” Marceline agreed with a dramatic sigh, launching into more details. She was particularly fixated on how Penelope’s dau
AbigailThe next morning, I dressed quickly and headed straight to the police station. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going; I didn’t need any interruptions. At the station, I requested to speak with the officers who had been called to the house. It took some convincing, but eventually, they agreed to sit down with me. After I’d explained my desire to see the progress they had made with the case, one of the officers – Lieutenant Barnes – was surprisingly cooperative after he’d heard me out.He took a folder from the other officer and slid it across the table to me. “We’ve made some progress,” he said. “First, the jewelry didn’t have your fingerprints on it.”I frowned. “Jus
Abigail****For a second, I said nothing, my heart pounding. That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. Conrad had given me that jewelry set as his recognition of all my sacrifices. All my hard work. He’d said so himself. The audacity of her words left me speechless. But I wouldn’t let her twist this to her favor.“You’re pathetic Susanna,” I said finally, my voice steady. “Even now, is all you can do lie?”She stood up abruptly, her face red with anger. Her head tilted as she let out a mocking laugh, the kind that made my skin crawl. “Why would I go through all that trouble, Abigail? What could I possibly gain from this ridiculous scheme?”The room felt like it had shrunk in the suffocating silence following Susanna’s scornful words. I stood there, gripping the file from the police station tightly against my chest. The implications of her words looped in my mind.I opened my mouth to reply, but she cut me off, her face suddenly flushed either from the effort of lying so brazenly or from some
ConradI buried my face in my hands, my fingers pressing hard against my temples as if I could physically force the anger out of my mind. But the rage inside me was an uncontrollable wildfire. It filled my veins, burned through my chest and roared in my ears like a storm that would not end.Susanna had lost the baby.The words the doctor had told me replayed in my head over and over again, each repetition slicing into him like a freshly sharpened blade. The doctor’s voice had been flat and clinical but to me, it might as well have been a gunshot.And it was her fault. Abigail, that conniving, heartless woman had killed Susanna’s child out of pure, disgusting jealousy.I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I hated her. I hated her so much I could barely breathe. Even now, as I thought about her, I could picture her face while my Susanna was been curled up in a hospital bed, devastated and empty.She didn’t even have a shred of remorse. Not a single tear shed for what she
Alexander The sharp knock on my office door pulled me from my thoughts. I blinked, dragging myself back to the present, and let out a deep breath before speaking. “Come in.”The door opened, and Daniel stepped inside, a file tucked under his arm. His usual composed expression was there, but I caught the faintest glint of excitement in his eyes as he walked toward my desk. That alone told me he had found something good.I leaned back in my chair, tapping my fingers against the armrest as I watched him place the file in front of me.“You have something?” I asked, my voice even.“I do,” Daniel confirmed, smoothing his tie as he stepped back. “I was looking into Liliana, as you requested, but while I was digging into her background, I came across some troubling information about her son, Harry.”I frowned, my gaze dropping to the file in front of me. The boy had barely crossed my mind before now. I knew he existed but I had never given him much thought. He was just a teenager, hardly sig
Alexander The words on the document blurred together, a jumble of black ink on white paper that refused to form coherent sentences. I blinked, shook my head, and tried again. The numbers, the projections, the carefully outlined strategies for the next quarter—all of it should have demanded my full attention. And yet, my mind drifted, pulled back to the last time I saw Abigail.Her eyes haunted me. I thought back to that day I had taken her to the hospital after Susanna had caused a fiasco at the company, the way Abigail had looked at that ultrasound picture of her baby, her eyes filled with a fragile kind of happiness, as if she couldn’t quite believe that joy belonged to her. And then, I remembered the look in her eyes when she lost it all. When I had seen her in that hospital bed, almost as pale as the sheets she was lying on. I let out a sharp breath, rubbing a hand down my face. The weight of guilt sat heavily in my chest. The worst part was knowing that maybe, just maybe, I had
Abigail Marceline's expression was one of sheer condescension. “Do you think I need Susanna’s sloppy plans to strike at you, Abigail?” She let out a low, humorless laugh. “I am the matriarch of the Remington family. I don’t stoop to such pathetic schemes.”I barely registered her insult. I was too focused on the implications of what she had just admitted. Susanna had done all of this—schemed, manipulated, and tried to eliminate my baby—without Marceline’s blessing.Which meant one thing: Susanna wasn’t working for Marceline.She had a safety net, but it wasn’t who I thought it was. It wasn’t the Remington family at all. It was someone else, someone powerful enough that even Susanna, with her delusions of grandeur, had felt secure enough to act.And suddenly, I knew. Whoever it was, had to be the father of her child as well. I lifted my gaze to Marceline, carefully studying her. She was many things—calculating, ruthless, controlling—but she was also proud. Too proud to ever align her
Abigail The moment I saw the syringe glint under the light, a terrible realization settled over me like a suffocating shroud. Liam who had just been pleading for my help, was still Marceline’s pawn. He wasn’t going to beg anymore. He was going to force me into submission if that was what Marceline wanted.I didn’t know what was in that syringe, but I knew one thing with absolute certainty—I could not let its contents anywhere inside my body.His sudden movement sent my pulse skyrocketing. I wrenched my arm back, but he was faster, his fingers locking around my wrist with a desperation that sent cold dread rushing through my veins. He was stronger than me, especially in my current state. My body was still exhausted from everything I had been through. But panic was not an option. If I panicked, I would lose.His voice was hoarse when he spoke, the same desperation from before creeping into his tone. “Please, Abigail. Just stay with Conrad. It’ll fix everything.”He still thought there
MarcelineMy nails dug into the smooth fabric of the armrest as I kept my expression neutral listening to Abigail's words. Her confidence was needling under my skin like splinters I couldn’t remove. I had always doubted Abigail had much of a spine, which was one of the reasons I had tolerated her for so long. So what was this audacity? When and where had she decided she had a sharp tongue to use so boldly against me? It made me furious. Negotiating with Abigail was beneath me.Sitting here, listening to her break down my strategy, made me want to snap my fingers, spur my men into action and be done with this mess. There were so many simple ways to end this entire ordeal I could have employed a long time ago.It would have been so easy too. All that would have been needed was a word in the right ears. Then a simple accident would have occurred. A body washed ashore, or perhaps one that simply vanished.She could have snatched away in the parking lot of the company, or taken a bullet t
AbigailMarceline lifted a shoulder in a delicate shrug but she said nothing more. For the first time since this conversation began, Liam met my eyes. I wished he hadn’t, because the moment he did, I saw it; the shame, the desperation.The absolute wreck of a man he had become. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. "It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal," he muttered, his voice rough. "I’d just started smoking… you know, to take the edge off. Looking for university funds was—" He exhaled, shaking his head. "It was stressful. I was worried about the future, about making it, and then one of the gardeners invited me for a smoke as I was leaving the house one day. I figured, why not? It was just one time."My stomach twisted. "One time," I echoed, my voice hollow. Liam nodded weakly. "But it didn’t stop, did it?" I asked, my hands trembling at my sides.He hesitated before answering, "No."I shut my eyes for a fraction of a second, inhaling sharply through my nose, willing the fury bubbli
AbigailI stared down at Liam, my body rigid with fury. The man kneeling before me, clutching at my dress, was supposed to be my brother, but right now, I could barely recognize him. "You owe Marceline money?" My voice was sharp, my tone disbelieving. "How, Liam? When did you borrow money from her?" Liam opened his mouth, but before he could form a single word, my gaze snapped to Marceline. "You," I spat, my anger redirecting itself at the woman watching us with a small, knowing smile. "You've gone too far. It wasn't enough for you to sneak around behind my back and meet with my brother in secret, but now you’ve loaned him money, too? Who gave you the right to do that?" Marceline didn't react or try to defend herself. She simply watched, and her silence only enraged me further. "You’re despicable," I seethed. "Manipulating my brother, pulling him into whatever twisted scheme you’re running—" "Abigail, stop!" Liam cut me off, his voice rising in desperation. I turned back to him
Abigail The room felt like it was shrinking around me, the walls closing in inch by inch. But Marceline wasn't finished yet. She turned her gaze to another man, the one standing near the entrance leading deeper into the house. He was a broad-shouldered figure, his expression neutral as though he had been trained not to show emotion. "And this," Marceline said, her tone as light as if she were introducing a friend at a social gathering, "is the lovely caregiver who so graciously escorted your dear mother to her new home, where she is being taken very good care of." My fingers twitched as my breath hitched. Marceline met my gaze with an almost amused expression, as if she enjoyed watching the realization dawn on my face. "You—" My voice was hoarse, my throat dry. I swallowed hard and tried again. "You and Conrad, you took her." Marceline smiled, slow and indulgent. "Of course, Abigail. I would have thought you'd already come to that conclusion." I had suspected Conrad was involved