Abigail
I 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
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
AbigailThe door creaked open again, and my head snapped up, anger flaring to life as I fully expected Susanna’s smug face to reappear, ready to deliver another blow. My breath hitched, and my nails bit into my palms as I subconsciously prepared myself, but it wasn’t her.It was Alexander—or rather, “Daniel,” and he was fully in the disguise he’d adopted for this charade. The sight of him momentarily jolted me, but it was the look in his eyes that froze me in place. Rage. A deep, simmering rage that mirrored the storm in my own chest, though he hid it beneath a mask of calm far better than I could.Our eyes locked, and in that moment, there was an unspoken understanding, a recognition of shared fury and betrayal. He shut the door behind him with deliberate care and took a step closer, his voice low and steady.“I should never have doubted your instincts,” he said, his words measured but laced with an edge th
AbigailI took a deep breath, the anger burning in my chest barely subdued. It was an effort to pull myself together, to shove all the hurt and humiliation into a corner of my mind where it couldn’t suffocate me. Looking at Alexander, I forced my voice to be calm, even if my hands still trembled slightly.“You can leave now,” I said, meeting his gaze with what I hoped looked like strong will. “You have everything you need from here. You better not fail me.”For a moment, he didn’t move. His eyes searched mine, as if looking for something I wasn’t ready to show him. Concern flickered across his face, a hesitation that surprised me. “Are you okay, truly?” he asked softly.I nodded, willing the shake in my hands to still
ConradI leaned back in my chair, the edges of the document I’d been attempting to read crumpled slightly in my hands. The words blurred together, refusing to make sense no matter how many times I went over them. Sighing heavily, I tossed the report onto the table and reached for the coffee cup sitting near the edge of my desk. The mug was cold, the remnants of the beverage bitter as I downed the last sip. The screen of my phone lit up as I glanced at it absentmindedly, checking the date. It had been over two days now. Two days since Abigail had been taken into custody. I set the mug down with a soft clink, my lips curling into a small, satisfied smile as I leaned back in my chair. “Wonder if she’s learned her lesson yet,” I muttered, the words hanging in the empty office. I hadn’t wanted to go this far—honestly, I hadn’t. But Abigail had been asking for it, pushing and pushing until there was no other way to make her understand. She needed to remember her place, needed to stop this
ConradAs I leaned back in my chair, I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my lips. Abigail. Sweet, perfect Abigail—at least, that was what I used to think. Now, the mere thought of her name filled me with a mix of irritation and disbelief. The gall of that woman. Not only had she dared to challenge me, but she had also crossed the one line I never thought she’d even approach. She had cheated. Abigail, my wife, had been unfaithful.I shook my head, still unable to comprehend the full depth of her audacity. When Susanna first brought up the possibility, I hadn’t believed her. Of course, I hadn’t. Abigail? Cheating? It was absurd. Abigail didn’t have the right to even look at another man, let alone entertain the thought of being with him. Who was she without me, anyway? What status, what value, did she have on her own?With or without her, I was still Conrad Remington, a man born into a legacy of power and prestige. My
ConradMy office door burst open with a sharp bang, and I felt my jaw clench at the sheer audacity of whoever dared to interrupt me. My head snapped up from the report I’d barely been pretending to read, and I was already halfway through barking out my reprimand when I saw her.Margot, my usually composed secretary, stood gripping the door handle so tightly her knuckles were white. Her eyes were wide and panicked, darting around the room like a trapped animal. She looked nothing like the calm, collected woman who had been with me through countless crises. The sight of her in such a state froze the words on my tongue.“What in the hell is this about, Margot?” I snapped, my voice sharp despite the unease settling in my gut. “You don’t barge into my office like this.”She didn’t flinch, didn’t apologize. Instead, she took a shaky step forward, her voice trembling as she blurted, “Mr. Remington, you need to turn on the television. Right now.”Her words hit me like ice water down my spine.
I wanted to punch something—anything. My jaw clenched so hard it felt like my teeth might crack. The reporters continued to drone on in the background.Nancy Gilbert leaned in, her smile sharp and unforgiving. “It seems Conrad Remington wasn’t just running a multi million-dollar company; he was running a double life. And poorly, I might add.”My anxiety coiled tighter, wrapping around me like a suffocating vice.Sean sighed, his expression a mixture of disdain and pity. “You have to feel for Abigail Remington in all this. She’s so rarely seen as it is. I can’t imagine the added burden of this humiliation.”Nancy nodded. “Have any of our reporters been able to get a word from her, Sean?”“I’m afraid not Nancy. And I can’t blame her for disappearing – finding out about your husband’s affair and his love child through the media must be a different sort of sting.”Nancy’s eyes glittered with a cruel kind of satisfaction. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll resurface soon enough, Sean. After all, this has
AbigailThe sound of footsteps echoed down the empty corridor, making me perk up as each step grew closer. I didn’t need anyone to tell me I was getting out today. I had already seen the news segment that exposed Conrad, and I couldn’t have asked for anything better from Alexander. He had gone to the best. The fact that Channel 15—the station Conrad swore by and was always his first go to for news—had been the first to break the story was the cherry on top. I could almost picture the way his face must have twisted in shock and rage as he helplessly saw his perfect image splinter on live television.When the officer finally appeared at my cell door, jangling his keys, I was already standing. I tilted my head at him as he unlocked the door, my lips quirking into the faintest hint of a smirk.“Do I have a visitor?” I asked, my voice low and calm, though I already knew the answer.The officer shook his head, pushing the cell door
AbigailThe first thing I felt as I came to was cold. Not just the kind that prickled the skin or made you shiver, but the kind that sank deep into the marrow, slow and consuming. It felt like the chill in the air had seeped into my bones and decided to settle there, like a second skeleton made of frost. I wanted to curl in on myself, but even that movement felt too much. My body was strangely weak.Against the freezing cold, a searing heat pressed against my lips, like fire on ice...someone’s lips? I stirred weakly, and in the hazy waking that followed, I became aware of warm droplets falling onto my cheek. Tears, but they weren’t mine.I opened my eyes.Alexander’s face swam into view above me. His brows were drawn together in anguish, but his eyes lit up with such sudden relief when he saw I was awake, it made my heart twist. There were tears in his eyes, actual tears, and I don’t think he even noticed them until I reached up with trembling fingers and brushed one away.“You’re cry
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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