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
AbigailRoxy’s eyes were wide under the hydrating sheet mask she wore and her expression was a mixture of horror and disbelief. I had barely taken a breath in the last ten minutes, recounting everything that had gone down back at the apartment; the tears, the gun, the way even after seeing Susanna’s true nature, Conrad had nothing but excuses for her.I had shown up at her place unannounced, still running on adrenaline and nerves, and though she had clearly been in the middle of a self care night—her hair was up in a towel, her fruit scented candles were burning, her feet soaking in warm water—Roxy hadn’t hesitated to pull me inside and settle on her couch with me.“I really thought I was going to die,” I admitted quietly, leaning into the back of the couch. “Thank God the gun wasn’t loaded."Roxy reached over and pulled my hand into hers without hesitation. Her grip was tight and solid. That one gesture alone told me just how deeply that possibility had shaken her too. And I hated th
AbigailI saw the shift in Susanna’s eyes before she moved.Tears welled up as if on cue, her steps shaking and her voice cracking with practiced fear as she stumbled toward Conrad like a wounded bird. “Conrad… thank God you’re here,” she said. “She’s gone mad… Abigail’s lost her mind… she brought me here to hurt me…”Quietly, I slipped the photo into the pocket of my hoodie, never taking my eyes off her. Whatever game she was playing, I wasn’t about to be caught off guard. Conrad just stood there stunned stupid, his eyes locked on her with an unreadable expression. And then she fell into his arms. That’s when everything went left. One moment she was clinging to him, and the next she spun out of his grasp like some deranged ballerina and turned. My heart shot into my throat as I saw the gun in her hand and her arm aimed straight at me.I didn’t even think before I ducked behind Conrad, using him as a shield. It was an ironic thing to do, hiding behind the very man who had let all of
Susanna“Give it to me!” I screamed again, my voice splitting with raw desperation. But Abigail didn’t even flinch.Instead, she tilted her head to the side, watching me like she was observing some pathetic creature in a zoo enclosure. Her voice came out calm, even almost bored when she answered me. “Why would I, Susanna? You didn't lose your cool until I pulled this out. So why should I let go of the one thing that finally made you crack?”My mouth opened, but nothing came out. Rage and panic all tangled in my chest, choking me. I didn’t even know if the livestream was still going. Had I managed to destroy the camera? Or had it caught every scream and every scrap of panic that had just bled out of me like an open wound? I couldn’t think about that now. I had to take back control. Abigail might have caught me off guard, but she was still… her. The girl who used to look away under my gaze. The woman who couldn’t manage to speak up for herself. That person couldn't just vanish in a f
SusannaAbigail hit me in the side of the head again, even harder this time, and I almost blacked out. As I struggled to stay upright, I was vaguely aware of her dragging me, and tightening something around my wrist. By the time I got my bearings, she had knotted a rope around my wrists, and tied one end to somewhere behind the couch she had dragged me to.She slammed a stack of documents on the small table in front of me, and the moment she did, something in my chest twisted. She gestured for me to pick them. I tried not to flinch and tried to play it cool, but my fingers felt a little numb as I reached for them. It was difficult with the way she had tied my wrists together, but I managed it. She was too calm, too damn confident, even in the way she held herself and I didn’t like it, not one bit. And the way she just stood there in that shapeless h
SusannaI was still lost in my daydreams of what I would do to the server when the car slowed to a stop and the driver glanced back at me. “We’re here, ma’am.”I looked up from my laps and looked out the window. A multi-storey building rose before me, all chipped paint and faded brick, like it had been built decades ago and then forgotten by time. No shine, no polish, no class. I sneered. So this is where he lives?What an absolute joke. The sheer nerve of that man to lay a hand on me, when the ring on my finger could pay his rent for five years and furnish the entire building. Yet he’d acted like a vigilante, like he had the right to involve himself in a matter that didn’t concern him. Like I wasn’t the Susanna Remington.
SusannaI leaned back in the plush reclining chair, sighing as the warm water bubbled around my feet. The spa always smelled like lavender and citrus, and that familiarity made it soothing. A soft towel was draped over my legs, and the nail technician was diligently filing the nails on my left hand while my right held my phone just above the water. I was watching a video of some influencer's vacation in the Maldives, my eyes half-lidded in relaxation.Then my phone vibrated in my hand. It was a call from an unsaved number. I didn't recognize it, and I didn’t care to. Without hesitation, I hit decline and went back to the video, rolling my eyes.The phone buzzed again almost immediately; it was the same unsaved number. I frowned.Twice in a row? What kind of idiot… My finger hovered over the decline button again when a thought struck me. Was it Harry’s father?He used to do this sometimes, calling me from random numbers, burner phones, maybe. He hadn’t done it in a while, but I also ha
Liliana I stared down at my lunch, the delicate aroma rising from the bowl doing nothing to stir my appetite. It was my favorite meal, carefully prepared and beautifully plated but today it tasted like nothing more than ash in my mouth, bitter and dry. I set my spoon down with a loud clatter, the sharp sound slicing through the silence of the room. Harry was out playing baseball with his friends, so I was all at home today, which made my annoyance even worse. My chest felt tight, suffocated by a fury I was barely managing to keep contained. How could I eat happily? How could I pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t? I let out a harsh loud breath, pushing my plate aside so forcefully it nearly toppled over the edge of the table. Enough. It had been months of enduring this slow descent into chaos. I had been an angel to tolerate it for this long. What other woman could have withstood the humiliation and the pressure of everything that had been thrown my way lately? First, ther
AbigailI meant to wait until later to tell Alexander about the meeting. I had every intention of acting cool, composed, someone who didn’t need to rush and blurt everything out like an overeager intern.But the second I promised to see Mr. Hayes back at the office and stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut behind me, all my resolve crumbled. My fingers itched for my phone, and before I knew it, I was pulling it out of my pocket, rapidly typing out a message. I crushed it, I wrote, my heart beating a little too fast. Conrad’s project is dead. You should have seen his face, Alexander. It was glorious.I stared at the screen, grinning like a fool. And then, reality caught up with me.I was being ridiculous. Maybe even downright immature. This wasn’t the dynamic we had. I was supposed to be professional and reliable, not someone who acted like they were texting a secret crush after acing a test. Groaning quietly under my breath, I erased the entire message and typed a much s
AbigailI froze mid-sentence, lifting my head slowly to look at him. He was still at the front of the room, but now his arms were crossed loosely over his chest, a mocking smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.“And here I thought,” he added, dripping with false politeness, “that only those formally invited had something to contribute.”A few people shifted in their seats. A few glanced at me. I could feel the weight of their eyes, the tension coiling in the air.Conrad was trying to embarrass me and put me back in my place.I leaned forward, pressing the button on the microphone in front of me. My voice was cool. “I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Remington.”I started t