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Chapter 48 (1)
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2025-01-21 16:45:26Abigail
The cold steel of the handcuffs bit into my wrists as I sat alone in the barren interrogation room. The walls were a dull gray, and the fluorescent light overhead buzzed faintly, casting harsh shadows that only intensified my growing sense of dread. My breath came in short, uneven gasps, and I fought the rising tide of panic clawing at my chest. I felt like I was suffocating.
This can’t be happening, I thought, over and over again. My pulse pounded in my ears as my mind spiraled to the worst places—what if no one believed me? What if I never saw the light of day again? What would happen to my baby?
“Stop it. Stop it right now,” I ordered myself, squeezing my eyes shut. The pressure behind them threatened to spill over as tears, but I held them back with a deep, shuddering breath. “This stress isn’t good for the baby.”
I shifted uncomfortably in the cold, metal chair, the cuffs making even
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AbigailMy jaw tightened as the officer continued, his voice dripping with condescension. “An eyewitness saw you walking to your car rather quickly after leaving Marcy’s place. What was the rush, Mrs. Remington? Guilty conscience?”I could feel my blood boiling beneath my skin, the heat rising to my cheeks despite the chill in the room. My first instinct was to shout my innocence, to defend myself against this absurd insinuation. But I stopped myself, taking a deep breath. Pleading wouldn’t get me anywhere. These officers had already decided I was guilty. My words would fall on deaf ears.Instead, I leaned back in my chair, the handcuffs biting into my wrists as I crossed my arms and glared at him. “So, let me get this straight,” I said, my voice laced with mockery. “An argument between Marcy and me magically translates to me murdering her? That’s quite a leap, don’t you think? And if that’s all you&rsq
Last Updated : 2025-01-21Abandoned by Ex, Married to His CEO Brother Chapter 49 (1)
AbigailThe clang of the cell door behind me was still ringing in my ears as I sank down onto the narrow cot. The hours passed like a slow drip from a leaky faucet, each minute a torment of restless thoughts. I had handed the police Conrad’s phone number so they could contact my lawyer, yet here I was, still sitting in this freezing, oppressive cell without a single update. No lawyer. No explanation. Just the weight of my own thoughts.The scene with Marcy played in an endless loop in my head. Every word, every expression, every misstep. Why hadn’t I been more cautious? Why hadn’t I insisted on meeting in public, the way I had done with Daniel? I had known the risks, hadn’t I? After everything that had happened in my life lately, how could I have been so careless?My head throbbed as I pressed my palms against my temples. If Daniel were to suddenly meet the same fate as Marcy, at least there would be CCTV footage showing he’d left the restaurant alive. The thoug
Last Updated : 2025-01-22Abandoned by Ex, Married to His CEO Brother Chapter 49 (2)
His words made anger and humiliation burn in my chest as I absorbed them. My nails dug into my palms as I tried to process the audacity of it all. Conrad had deliberately left me stranded here.“And if I want a lawyer?” I asked, my voice tight.“You’ll have to hire one yourself,” he replied without hesitation, “or settle for a public defender.”The gall of it. My fists clenched so tightly I thought my nails might break the skin. My mind raced back to my last conversation with Conrad, to the coldness in his voice, the way he had demanded I pay him for every single cent of my mother’s medical expenses before Marceline had interrupted us. Was this his way of bypassing her to punish me? Of making a statement?I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to focus. Conrad’s cruelty wasn’t the problem I needed to solve right now. I turned my attention back to Alexander—“Daniel,” I reminded myself
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AbigailI hesitated, the words catching in my throat. His question wasn’t unexpected, but my unease had grown with every passing second of this conversation. I couldn’t trust him—not fully. Not after everything I’d just uncovered. Whatever his reasons for disguising himself as “Daniel,” that revelation unsettled me more than I cared to admit. I wasn’t about to reveal all my cards to someone who’d been lying to me from the start. He’d gone to extraordinary lengths to keep his identity hidden from me. That alone was reason enough to keep him at arm’s length.“You’ll know when the time comes. I’ll call for you,” I said carefully. “But for now, I need you to do something for me.”His brow arched, a faintly amused expression flickering across his features. “And what might that be?”I leaned back in my chair, forcing my body to appear relaxed even a
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AbigailHer sharp intake of breath was deeply satisfying. “How dare you—”“How dare I?” I interrupted, my voice rising with scorn. “How dare you, Susanna. You’re making up stories of an affair because I had lunch with someone you think is beneath me, but let’s talk about you. You’re the one who weaponizes everything you can—your words, your tears, even your pregnancy—to manipulate everyone around you. Including my husband.”The line went silent for a beat, and I could almost picture her, lips parted in shock, scrambling for a response. I didn’t give her the chance.“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” I continued, my tone cutting. “You’ve slithered your way into Conrad’s life, and you have the nerve to call me out for disrespecting him? The real tragedy here, Susanna, is how blind you are to how unwanted you are. You&rsqu
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AbigailThe dull hum of the fluorescent lights in my cell was the only companion I had as restless thoughts invaded my mind. I lay on the hard cot, staring at the cobwebbed ceiling as my uncertain thoughts clawed at me like invisible hands. Was this going to work? Or had I overplayed my hand this time, by refusing Alexander’s offer of bail and willingly confining myself to this grim little box?The rational part of me understood why Alexander doubted me when I had asked him to get someone to follow Susanna. If our roles were reversed, I wasn’t sure I would have put faith in him either. Staying in this cell, betting on the fragile thread of my intuition, seemed foolish at best and reckless at worst. But that gut feeling wouldn’t relent, a voice deep inside whispering that this façade of helplessness would pay off and that the trap laid for me would eventually snap back on its creators.I smiled wryly to myself. If I was wrong, I’d h
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AbigailI swallowed hard, keeping my expression as neutral as I could. The faint outline beneath his shirt suggested he was wired too. My pulse beat faster as I realized what this meant; Alexander had kept his word.My heart gave an unexpected jolt, fluttering in a way that I wasn’t prepared for. Despite his doubts, despite the obvious reservations he’d voiced about my plan, Alexander had followed through. He’d sent someone in, someone who was not only watching but recording everything.But that joy was quickly tempered by a more practical thought; If he hadn’t done this much for me, what was the point of partnering with him at all? I didn’t need to take it personally - he would have done the same for anyone else. Still, the risk he’d taken wasn’t lost on me. This was a gamb
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AbigailSusanna’s smirk grew sharper as she placed her phone back into her bag, her eyes gleaming with a malicious satisfaction. I could feel my pulse in my ears, the heat rising up my neck and threatening to betray my composure. But I wouldn’t let her see it. I knew she would feed on any weakness she saw in me now. So, I straightened my back and forced a shrug, summoning a false sense of calm I didn’t feel.“Whatever you think you’ve accomplished by showing me that pathetic video, it doesn’t change a damn thing,” I said, my voice laced with venom. “At the end of the day, I’m the one Conrad married. I’m the one who stood at the altar with him. You’re just a dirty little affair he has to keep hidden.”For a split second, her face twisted, her smug mask cracking. I knew I’d hit a nerve, and the satisfaction was almost enough to dull the anger starting to rage inside me.Then, quic
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Conrad This was wrong. All wrong. I took a slow sip of my whiskey, trying to let the burn of it distract me, but it didn’t work. The woman in front of me, the one I had spent a ridiculous amount of money perfecting, stood stiffly, her hands clasped together, head tilted downward like a scolded child. She was supposed to look like my wife. She did, to an extent. The hair, the eyes, even the perfume; those details were correct. But everything else? Off. Her posture was wrong. Abigail didn't carry herself like an 1900's schoolgirl expecting a caning. Abigail never failed to meet my eyes even when I was spitting fire. Her quiet confidence couldn't be taught. This woman? She was trying too hard, and it irritated me. I sighed, rolling the glass between my fingers before setting it down with a dull clink. This would have to do for now. I couldn’t have Abigail yet, but I needed something, someone, to fill the void, and it couldn't be Susanna. At least, not for now. Mother had been s
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Alexander The moment I pulled open the door hidden under the base of the statue of the Virgin Mary, the scent of decay hit me like a punch to the gut.No, that wasn’t quite right. I had smelled it the moment I stepped into the manor of the estate. That deep, cloying stench of something long past its time, something that should have been laid to rest but had been left to fester instead. But I had ignored it. Or rather, I had hoped, prayed even, that it was nothing more than the rot of an abandoned estate.I never thought we would find a body. But there she was.I barely had time to register the sight of the corpse before I heard Abigail’s sharp gasp behind me. I moved without thinking, shoving the door closed and stepping in front of it, using my body as a shield as if I could somehow erase what she had just seen. But it was too late.She had seen, and she knew. I didn’t need to hear her say it to understand. I had already reached the same conclusion—the same horrible, gut-wrenching
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Abigail The man who had leaned against the statue stumbled back, waving away dust with one hand as he coughed. A thick cloud filled the air, and I instinctively raised my arm to cover my nose and mouth. The statue of the Virgin Mary had crumbled like a sandcastle, revealing something hidden under it. As the dust settled, Alexander stepped closer, his expression sharpening with concern and curiosity. Where the statue once stood, there was now a gaping hole, the jagged edges of stone framing what looked like a concealed door. The wood was so moldy and blackened with age that it barely looked like wood at all. There was no handle, just a small opening where fingers could slip in and pull. Alexander reached for it. Something in me screamed for him to stop. I don’t know why. Maybe I already knew, deep down, what was waiting behind that door. But he pulled it open anyway, grunting as a laboring creak filled the air. The first thing I noticed was the stench. It was putrid, suffocatin
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Susanna I stirred awake to the sound of slow, rhythmic breathing beside me, the weight of an arm slung over my waist. My head felt thick with exhaustion, my limbs sore in ways I didn’t care to think about. For a long moment, I lay still, staring at the ceiling of the garish motel room, the golden swirls on red wallpaper filling me with distaste. Where am I? The question drifted through my half-conscious mind before memory came rushing back, hitting me like a slap to the face. Oh. Right. Disgust twisted my expression. I shoved the arm off me, wincing at the soreness in my lower back as I sat up. The movement jostled the man beside me, and he made a groggy sound before blinking awake. He turned his head towards me, his lips stretching into a lazy, leering grin. "Mm," he hummed, eyes roaming over my body, shameless despite the crust of sleep still clinging to his lashes. "You haven’t lost your touch, sweetheart. If anything, you’re even better than before." I scowled, n
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Abigail It had been hours since Alexander and I arrived at Ravenbrook, since I had first stepped into this decrepit house with my heart pounding and my hopes soaring against my better judgment. I had been so sure. After hearing Liam say the name, and seeing the terror on his face when he whispered it, I had believed with every part of me that my mother would be here. That I would find her at last. That all of this suffering, all of the waiting, all of the agonizing weeks spent wondering if she was alive or dead, had been leading to this moment. And yet, all I had to show for my hope was nothing. No signs of life. No whispers of her presence. No misplaced object, no forgotten article of clothing, no single trace that a woman who had once been the most important person in my world had ever been here at all. I had searched everywhere. The bedrooms, the bathrooms, the library, the study. I had torn through dusty closets, rummaged through abandoned drawers, even pressed my hand agai
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Abigail The elevator ride down was silent. I barely registered the soft chime announcing each floor as we descended, nor the polished steel doors reflecting my pale face back at me. My mind was spinning, turning over the name Ravenbrook like a stone in my palm, searching for familiarity in its edges and weight. Where had I heard it before? It clung to me, refusing to let go, like a whisper just out of reach. Beside me, Alexander stood still, his hands in his pockets, but I could feel his gaze lingering on me. He was watching me closely. I wasn’t sure if it was concern or curiosity at my quietness, but I had no space in my mind to dwell on it. I could only focus on Ravenbrook. There was something stirring in my memory, faint but persistent. By the time we stepped into the hospital’s lobby and moved toward the parking lot, my hands had curled into fists. The answer was there. I could feel it. I slid into the passenger seat of Alexander’s car, fastening my seatbelt automatica
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Abigail Liam moved closer, his shoulders shaking, his face wet with tears. His eyes were desperate as he reached out, trying to wrap his arms around me in an embrace. I turned my body away, just enough to avoid him. His arms hung in the air for a second before he let them drop. He sniffled loudly, his breath coming in short, unsteady bursts. I swallowed hard, forcing down the emotions rushing through me. “Liam,” I said quietly, my voice steadier than I expected. “That man you saw speaking with Marceline and Conrad, who was he?” Liam wiped his face roughly, blinking at me in confusion. “I told you already,” he mumbled. “I don’t know.” I didn’t believe him. Maybe he didn’t have a name, but Liam wasn’t stupid. He had spent time around Aaron, the man who had led him into this mess. There was no way he hadn’t overheard something, some kind of detail that could clue me in. I narrowed my eyes. “Liam, think.” He shook his head, his movements jerky. “I...I don’t know anything
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Abigail I couldn't take it anymore. Everything Liam had said so far, every word, had been an excuse. I hadn’t wanted to say it, had tried to keep my emotions in check, but the words slipped past my lips before I could stop them. “All of this… all of it, Liam, is just you making excuses.” Liam’s eyes widened slightly, as if he hadn’t expected me to say that. But I couldn’t stop now. “You’ve told me about the gambling, the debts, the deals you made, but you still haven’t explained why you helped Susanna hurt me. Your own sister.” My voice shook with anger and hurt. “And what about Mom, Liam? You haven’t even mentioned her. Haven’t even said her name. Do you even care that we still don't know where she is?” I swallowed hard, my chest rising and falling quickly. “And you haven’t even apologized,” I whispered, shaking my head. “Not once.” Liam stared at me after my outburst, something dark and ugly flashing in his eyes. His hands clenched into fists. Then, in an instant, he
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Abigail "I hope you mean that," Alexander said, taking a step towards the bed. Liam’s hands shook as he nodded, his fingers curling into the bedsheets. I held my breath, bracing myself, knowing whatever came next wouldn’t be easy to hear. “When did it really start?” Alexander pressed, his voice firm. “The gambling, the drugs… they didn’t just start when you met Marceline, did they? You’d already been sinking long before that.” Liam swallowed hard, guilt flashing in his bloodshot eyes. He lowered his head. “No. It started before.” I exhaled slowly, a bitter weight settling in my chest. Liam squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, as if steeling himself, before speaking again. “It started with...Conrad.” I stiffened at the name, my hands clenching in my lap. Just the mention of his name sent a flash of anger down my spine. “The first time I asked him for money, I was hesitant,” Liam admitted. “I knew you already felt indebted to him for helping with Mom’s hospital bills, Bee
