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
AlexanderTwo Months AgoAfter I took over the family business, I faced constant resistance. Many eyes were on the company, both openly and secretly. The endless deception became tiresome. The people I could trust grew fewer and fewer. Besides my loyal subordinates, the only ones I could rely on were my family.Or so I thought.The memory of it all haunted me. No matter how much time passed, I could still feel the bitter sting of betrayal, the bone-deep exhaustion of fighting for my life, and the lingering grief of a promise made to a dying man. It had started with Susanna’s message, a simple plea for help that had thrown me into chaos.I was in another city, halfway across the country, handling a deal that demanded my full attention. But the moment I saw her name on the screen, followed by the panicked plea for help, everything else faded into the background. Her message was brief but filled with urgency.Alexander, I need you. Please come.My gut twisted as I read them, imagining the
AlexanderPresent DayMy estate home sat in a strange kind of quiet, the kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful but expectant, like the air before a storm. I sat by the large window overlooking the driveway, the sunlight slicing through the curtains in golden streaks. A blanket covered my legs. The wheelchair carrying me had been carefully chosen for the role I was now playing. My wound had long since healed; I didn’t need the chair anymore as my leg no longer ached. But the wheelchair was a weapon now, a carefully chosen tool for deception.Florence, the head of my household staff, stood to my side, her tablet in hand. Her polished bearing betrayed a trace of concern as she delivered the news. “Sir,” she said, her voice soft. “The news of your rescue has been leaked to the family.”I nodded slowly, turning the chair slightly to face her. The golden light from the window cast shadows on her face, highlighting the faint worry lines on her brow.“Good,” I said, keeping my voice cool.“You
AbigailThe scent of jasmine rice and lemongrass greeted me before I even saw the basket. It sat on my desk, pristine and perfectly arranged, a silent proclamation of Conrad’s devotion—or perhaps, guilt. My stomach twisted—not from hunger, but from irritation. The presentation was perfect, of course. Conrad’s gestures always were, shouting louder to the office than any declaration of love ever could.I felt eyes on me as I approached my desk, coworkers waiting for my reaction. Some tried to appear casual, others not bothering to hide their curiosity. Sylvia, seated just a few feet away, was the first to speak.“Well, well,” she drawled, leaning against her cubicle wall with an expression of poorly hidden admiration. “If my ex-husband had been half this romantic, maybe I wouldn’t have divorced him.”The bitterness in her tone didn’t escape me, nor did the envy that lingered beneath her words.I forced a polite smile, my fingers grazing the basket’s woven handle. “If you want a man like
AbigailAs I pulled up to the dinner that evening, my determination wobbled like jelly. The house, with its grand columns and sprawling driveway, was lit with the soft glow of evening lights, but it felt nothing like home.“You said you’d go,” I muttered to myself. “You’re not a coward.” My stomach twisted as I sat in the car, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. I could leave. I could turn the ignition, drive off, and call Marceline with some excuse—headache, sudden work emergency, anything to avoid stepping into that house again. But I’d given my word. And if nothing else, I always kept my promises.“You’ve faced worse, Abigail,” I added in a whisper, straightening my posture. “It’s just dinner.”It took several deep breaths, and a silent pep talk before I convinced myself to open the car door and step out. I smoothed the front of my emerald dress. It was understated but elegant, just enough to show I hadn’t come unprepared but not so much as to look like I was trying
AbigailDinner turned out to be a far more intimate affair than I had anticipated. Instead of the crowded gatherings typical of the Remington family, the table was set for only the four us: Marceline, Alexander, Conrad, and me. No crowd of curious onlookers, no whispered gossip, and most importantly, no Susanna.It was a small mercy that she wasn’t present. I wasn’t sure if her absence was deliberate on Marceline’s part or if Susanna herself had chosen not to attend. Either way, I was grateful. Marceline and Alexander carried most of the conversation, their polite exchange drifting across the dining table as we ate. Marceline asked Alexander about his recovery, her voice warm with genuine concern. He described the plane crash with a grim clarity that made my stomach twist, and the difficult days that followed, when life had tried to strip him of everything.Marceline’s voice was edged with curiosity as she dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin and asked Alexander, “I can’t
AbigailI waited for Conrad to protest, like he always seemed to do when it came to Susanna, but to my surprise he said nothing. Then again, there was no mistaking the weight of Alexander’s words, or the look in his eyes—he wasn’t asking for permission, not that anyone in this family ever truly did.Alexander turned to me, his expression contemplative. “Abigail,” he said, his voice low. “Thank you. I’ve heard from everyone how helpful you’ve been, looking after Susanna during… everything.” He hesitated briefly, his tone softening. “I owe you a great debt.”I barely had time to respond before the door to the master bedroom swung open, and out stepped Susanna. Her face was a mess of tears, her voice cracki
AbigailThe smell of the food filled the entire room, and something about the presence of Alexander beside me dulled the tightness I’d been carrying all day. The tension behind my eyes had started to fade as I picked at the grilled fish, letting the flavors roll across my tongue, my limbs slowly unknotting with every bite.“I’ve been getting calls from Liam,” I said, my voice tired but audible. I didn’t know why I chose now to bring it up; maybe because I finally felt safe enough to say it out loud.Alexander’s hand stilled mid-motion, his chopsticks hovering above the container of scallops. “Liam?” His eyes flicked to mine, sharp. “How long?”I nodded and swallowed. “It’s been a few times now. He says he’s changed and keeps asking to see me.”His brows drew together, and I could see him piecing something together. “He’s been coming to me too and asking to see you.” He paused. “He’s not been released from Ridgewell officially, but this is part of the treatment program; they release so
Abigail I didn’t know where I was going, I just kept driving. One street turned into another and headlights flashed past me in a blur. The city was quietly winding down while something restless stirred in my chest. My fingers were clenched so tight around the steering wheel, they ached. I told myself I would find a hotel. Or maybe I would go to Roxy’s, even though it was too late and she’d worry. But the truth was, I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. I wasn’t thinking at all.I just didn’t want to go home.And somehow, without meaning to, I ended up here. The car rolled to a slow stop in front of the tall, glittering building before I fully realized where I was. I blinked up at it, dazed and slightly breathless, my stomach twisting into an uncomfortable knot. I knew this place; it was the high rise I had met Alexander before we went to Ridgewell to see Liam. The lights shimmered against the glass like stars in a city that forgot what the real ones looked like. But I wasn’t looking at
AbigailAfter work, I found myself walking to the park instead of driving straight home.I told Roxy I’d leave early today, mostly because she looked ready to duct-tape me to my chair if I didn’t. But now that I had, I didn’t know what to do with myself. My body wasn’t worn down enough, and that small sliver of energy still lingering in me made me restless. If I’d had my way, I would’ve stayed in the office till one a.m., working until even my thoughts couldn’t keep up with me anymore. But Roxy had been especially worried lately. So, I’d smiled, packed up, and walked out like someone who had a life waiting for her outside those walls.I didn’t.So, here I was, wandering through the park with my coat still buttoned, my shoes making soft sounds against the path. The air was crisp but not cold, and the faint scent of blooming grass and wet earth filled my lungs. It was peaceful, in a way that made the ache in my chest feel sharper.To my left, I noticed a picnic spread out on a checkered
RoxyAnd yet he always asked as if he had nothing to do with it. As if it wasn’t his driver who opened the door for me, or his expense account that covered the seafood platter I’d been daydreaming about since 3 p.m.I settled in, crossing one leg over the other. What I couldn’t quite wrap my head around what I never could was how a man like Alexander could share even a single drop of blood with someone like Conrad.Conrad Remington, the walking ego. The emotional toddler. Every time I thought about him, it made me want to demand a DNA test on Alexander’s behalf. Maybe they swapped cribs at the hospital. Maybe one of them was adopted. Maybe God just wanted to play a particularly cruel practical joke.Still, why was I thinking about Conrad with what was in front of me?Sitting beside Alexander was one of the most delicious motivations I’d ever had for showing up anywhere on time; Daniel Woods, his secretary. The tall drink of sin I’d been lowkey thirsting over since the first moment I l
RoxyI yawned so hard I swore my jaw cracked. My screen dimmed in front of me, signaling the finality of another day. With a satisfying click, I shut down my computer and sat back in my chair, allowing myself a tiny internal cheer.Done. All of it. Not only had I cleared every task on my to-do list—emails, reports, that ridiculous revision James from Marketing demanded this morning—I had also accomplished the almost-impossible: I’d managed to convince Abigail to leave on time. No 11 p.m. grind, no haunting the office like a lonely ghost with the cleaning crew. She actually packed up and went home like a normal person. That was a victory in itself.I stretched my arms above my head and yawned again, this one longer. All I wanted now was to kick off my heels, boil water for some scandalously sodium rich ramen, and fall asleep in the middle of an episode of Love & Lies: Southside Edition. It was my guilty pleasure, that trashy little reality series with way too many slow motion breakups
AbigailI told myself not to let that reflection haunt me. It was just a slip. I had slept poorly last night and barely remembered to eat breakfast this morning. I was tired, yes. A little thinner? maybe. But I wasn’t broken. I wouldn’t let my own reflection, however unfamiliar it seemed, get to me.By the time I returned to the office, the feelings of listlessness still clung to me like damp clothes, but I pushed through. I had too much to do to afford even a second of moping. The artificial white lights overhead buzzed softly as I walked through the open-plan floor, sandwich bag in hand, ignoring the curious glance Elle shot me from her desk.She didn’t say anything. But the slight furrow in her brow and the tight purse of her lips told me exactly what she was thinking.She didn’t like that the small bag in my hand was far too small for the elaborate meal she had wanted me to return with. I sat down without acknowledging her and unwrapped the sandwich like it was the key to world pe
“You don’t have to stress yourself over me,” I said quietly, watching Elle storm around like a small, angry thundercloud. She spun around sharply, her eyes flashing. Before she could say anything, Roxy stepped forward. Without a word, she pulled her credit card from her pocket and thrust it toward me. “Go get lunch,” she said, her voice firm. “Anything you want. Expensive, greasy, complicated, I don’t care. But when you get back, I better see a substantial charge on that card, or I swear I’ll put you on forced vacation.” I opened my mouth to protest, but Roxy narrowed her eyes at me like a predator eyeing its prey. And Elle looked like she’d physically drag me to the nearest restaurant and force feed me if I dared say no. So I just nodded, accepting the card with quiet obedience, even though I felt like a child being scolded by two very determined mothers. I grabbed my bag and left the office, their combined gazes hot on my back, daring me to come back empty-stomached. As I stepp
AbigailI stared at the list for a few moments longer, letting my thoughts drift. Allan would be the last one I would target for a while. Things were heating up too fast. Conrad was furious with how successful I was; Elle often gossiped about how her old coworkers were walking on eggshells around him, flinching at his temper and avoiding his gaze. And he’d threatened me two more times since that embarrassing outburst in the hallway, his words carrying warning. Ha, all bark, no bite.He didn’t scare me. What did I have to lose? There was a meeting coming up in a few days and something about the way the internal memo had been worded told me there was going to be a vote. I wasn’t totally off guard, I had heard things from the talk making its way around the company. It had to be about that risky new project Conrad proposed a while back. On paper, it looked promising and bold. But the risk was astronomical, and I knew most of the board members were hesitant to sign off on it.This was my
AbigailAfter Conrad dragged me into that conference room and tried to intimidate me, I walked away with my heart steady and my head high. Trying to rattle me and drag me back into the little box he once kept me in had failed. If anything, it only lit the fire under me.Ross Delaney had only been the beginning.Elle submitted her transfer request the very same day. I’d barely finished going over a few client files when she popped her head into my cubicle and asked, “Still want me?”I nodded, smiling. “More than ever.”By the time the sun dipped below the skyline that evening, Roxy strolled by my desk, leaned against the frame of my door with her usual languid elegance, and quipped, “You work fast.” Her mouth lifted in a smile. “I saw the transfer request from Acquisitions a while ago. Mr. Hayes already processed it. Elle’s yours.”“Thank you,” I said, smiling back at her. I liked the way Roxy often looked at me these days. I had always seen respect there, but now, there seemed to be mo