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
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
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
AbigailInternally, I whooped and punched the air in victory. But outwardly, I gave Mr. Hayes a serene, practiced smile, the kind that said I'm glad to be here, not desperate to be here. “Thank you again,” I said politely, then stepped out of his office before my excitement bubbled too far to contain.Ten o’clock was only forty minutes away. Not enough time to start anything new, but just enough to make myself useful. I returned to my office, where Elle was already tidying up the documents on my desk.“Anything urgent?” I asked as I approached.She handed me a printed memo and gave me a quick update on a postponed meeting. “Only thing worth noting is
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