Mag-log inAbigail
I 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
ConradI woke up with my head pounding. For a long second, I didn’t know where I was. The ceiling above me was familiar and yet not the one I usually woke up in. My eyes drifted, slow and heavy, until I saw the pale curtains, the soft morning light slipping through them. Oh, I was in Abigail’s room. My chest tightened as I remembered. I turned my head and looked toward the window. The sun was only just rising, low and weak in the sky. It must be early morning, much earlier than I was used to waking up.I forced myself to sit up. My body protested, every muscle stiff, my head spinning. I dragged a hand down my face and felt the dry, crusted tracks of tears on my cheek, reminding me of how I had collapsed onto her bed like a pathetic child who didn’t know where else to go.Disgust curled in my stomach. I scoffed at myself under my breath. “God, you're pathetic, Conrad.”I swung my legs off the bed and stalked out of her room, slamming the door harder than necessary behind me.I couldn’
Abigail My arms folded, I watched Liam pack the little he owned into a new suitcase. His movements were slow and unhurried. He folded his clothes with too much care, smoothing out every crease like he was trying to draw out the time he had here, and make it last as long as possible. Still, the navy blue box at his feet was already half full. “Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you?” I asked again. I had asked it so many times it had started to sound like a prayer. “I can take you to the station. It’s not a problem.” He didn’t answer at first. He just kept folding. A shirt. A sweater. Then a pair of jeans. He was leaving for another city. Leaving to finally do what he should have done a long while ago if Conrad, Susanna and Marceline hadn't upended our lives so abruptly—resume his education and start university. His results had been released while he was in rehab, and he'd aced his papers. He should have left some weeks ago but he had refused to go until he confronted Marceline one
Conrad The men were already waiting when I arrived home. They stood in a loose formation near the front drive, their hands folded and their shoulders squared as they spoke with each other. As I drove in, their eyes were solodly trained me as if they already power had changed hands before my car fully came to a stop. Bonafide...my mother’s men, now mine, or at least they had been mine for a few fragile hours. As my car rolled to a stop, they straightened almost in unison. “Boss,” several of them greeted as I stepped out. The word twisted in my gut..I lifted a hand in a vague, dismissive wave and walked past them without slowing. Their eyes followed me, awaiting orders, expecting instructions. Soon, they wouldn’t be waiting for me at all. Soon, they would be standing like this for Casillas. The thought made bile rise in my throat. I mounted the steps to my house and paused just long enough to point at two men. “Jackie. Hugo. You - inside. Now.” They obeyed immediately, falling
ConradCasillas didn’t even flinch at my outburst. He didn’t raise his voice or even didn’t do anything as crude as mirror my anger. He patiently looked at me like I was a child having a tantrum.“Lower your voice,” he said calmly.I felt my glare harden, my jaw tightening as I fought the instinct to snap back. Every nerve in my body screamed to remind him who I was. Casillas leaned back in his chair, utterly unbothered, and continued as if my fury were nothing more than background noise.“The men of Bonafide are integral to this plan,” he said. “And let’s be clear...I’m not asking you, Conrad. I’m telling you.”I sat up straighter, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “You don’t have the authority to give me orders,” I said coldly. “If this is the nonsense you dragged me here for, I’m leaving.”For a fraction of a second, I thought I saw deadly something flicker in his eyes. Then he chuckled. There was no humor in it.“If you walk away,” Casillas said, crossing his legs with infu
Conrad As Susanna and I went downstairs and stepped into the parking lot, the men of Bonafide turned toward me almost in unison. Earlier in the day, that sight of them waiting on me had filled me with a heady rush. It had felt like victory over Mother but now, it made my skin crawl. I slowed my steps without meaning to, my gaze sweeping over their faces. Men who had watched me grow up. Men who had once bowed their heads to my mother’s whims without question. My jaw tightened as an ugly thought crept in. Which of them had helped Mother sell that lie about the lake house? Which of them would have turned on me in a heartbeat if I had walked straight into her trap and made a fool of myself? “Go home,” I said flatly. “Return to my house. All of you. Await further instructions.” There was a flicker of surprise among them that was quickly buried under obedience. A few exchanged glances, but no one questioned me. One by one, they nodded, murmured assent, and began dispersing across the
ConradI nursed the bottle like it was the only thing keeping my hands from doing something worse.The cognac burned bitterly on the way down, but it didn’t come close to touching the fury coiled tight in my chest. My mother had done it again. She had fooled me again, this time by trying to pull me in with words she knew I had been starving for my entire life.I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening around the glass neck of the bottle.I wasn’t just angry at her. That part of my anger was old and familiar; it was even dull in comparison to what I truly felt. What made my blood boil was the realization of how close I had come to abandoning everything my caution just because Mother had said she was proud of me. Because she had sounded… like a mother. A real one. I let out a harsh laugh and took another long pull straight from the bottle.She had said that she was proud of me. I had wanted those words so badly I had almost fumbled my hard earned power.If Susanna hadn’t been there, I







