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
AbigailSusanna ended the call with a smug smile, turning her attention back to me.“Oh, did you want to talk to him?” she asked, faking surprise. “Sorry about that.” She offered a mock apology, her tone so insincere it made my blood boil.Then, with her nose in the air, she sauntered out of the room, leaving me standing there, gripping the file from the police station in one hand and my phone in the other so tightly my knuckles turned white.My anger felt like a living, breathing thing, threatening to consume me. How dare Conrad do this? How dare he treat me like this? How dare he give me something Susanna had rejected, knowing fully well how I felt about her? My mind replayed every slight, every instance where I’d felt pushed aside or overshadowed since Susanna moved in.As I wrestled with my emotions, Marceline stepped into the room, her expression searching. From the apologetic look in her eyes, it was clear she’d overheard everything.“Abigail,” she began gently, placing a hand o
AbigailAs I stepped out of the shower, the steam from my hot shower swirled around me and clung to the edges of the bathroom mirror. My damp hair clung to my neck as I grabbed another towel and began drying it absent-mindedly. I didn’t want to think about the file from the police station, Susanna’s smug words, or my horrible day. Not yet, anyway. I could feel the anger coiled up in my chest, just waiting for an excuse to explode. I needed this moment of peace and quiet.But even as I dried my hair, it didn’t last long. My phone, charging on wooden the bedside table, kept buzzing insistently. I frowned and tightened my towel around myself before padding across the room to see who it was, although I already had a good idea. The screen lit up with a familiar name as I picked it up. Four missed calls from Conrad. I stared at the notification, my stomach tightening. Conrad. Of course, it was Conrad.My lip curled as I opened the messages, skimming through a chain of text messages that app
AbigailI glanced up at her, smiling faintly. “Conrad used to bring work home sometimes,” I explained. “I helped him out whenever I could. I guess I picked up a thing or two.”Her eyes softened, and she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, her brows knitting together briefly before she silenced it. “You’re doing great,” she said instead, her tone encouraging. “Keep it up.”As she walked away, I turned back to my work. For the first time in quite a while, I felt in control. Maybe this was what I needed. Space. Independence. A chance to remind myself—and Conrad—that I wasn’t just an ornament, waiting to be polished and displayed when it suited him.The morning passed in a blur for me as I worked. Even though I had only arrived that morning, my desk was already drowning under a sea of documents, leaving no room for my thoughts to be consumed by Conrad or the mess that had led me here. I was totally absorbed in my work until I he
AbigailThe secretary’s announcement had barely finished ringing in my ears when she turned to Conrad and me. “You need to go to the scene immediately,” she added, her tone now turning brisk and professional. “I’ve already arranged for a company car. It’s waiting downstairs.”Without hesitating, I nodded. “Let’s go.”I moved toward the door, the news buzzing in my head like a bee around a flower. Alexander was back. A part of me still struggled to believe it. Just as I moved past Conrad, his hand shot out, gripping my arm to stop me in my tracks. “Wait, Abigail,” he said, his voice low and edged with frustration. “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here, in the company? In my office?”I turned to him slowly, disbelief washing over me. I had just answered him, hadn’t I? The reason was obvious, yet here he was, dragging me back into a conversation that was irrelevant with this news of Alexander. Then it hit me—Conrad didn’t even remember. It hadn’t even been tha
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