Abigail Marceline's expression was one of sheer condescension. “Do you think I need Susanna’s sloppy plans to strike at you, Abigail?” She let out a low, humorless laugh. “I am the matriarch of the Remington family. I don’t stoop to such pathetic schemes.”I barely registered her insult. I was too focused on the implications of what she had just admitted. Susanna had done all of this—schemed, manipulated, and tried to eliminate my baby—without Marceline’s blessing.Which meant one thing: Susanna wasn’t working for Marceline.She had a safety net, but it wasn’t who I thought it was. It wasn’t the Remington family at all. It was someone else, someone powerful enough that even Susanna, with her delusions of grandeur, had felt secure enough to act.And suddenly, I knew. Whoever it was, had to be the father of her child as well. I lifted my gaze to Marceline, carefully studying her. She was many things—calculating, ruthless, controlling—but she was also proud. Too proud to ever align her
Alexander The words on the document blurred together, a jumble of black ink on white paper that refused to form coherent sentences. I blinked, shook my head, and tried again. The numbers, the projections, the carefully outlined strategies for the next quarter—all of it should have demanded my full attention. And yet, my mind drifted, pulled back to the last time I saw Abigail.Her eyes haunted me. I thought back to that day I had taken her to the hospital after Susanna had caused a fiasco at the company, the way Abigail had looked at that ultrasound picture of her baby, her eyes filled with a fragile kind of happiness, as if she couldn’t quite believe that joy belonged to her. And then, I remembered the look in her eyes when she lost it all. When I had seen her in that hospital bed, almost as pale as the sheets she was lying on. I let out a sharp breath, rubbing a hand down my face. The weight of guilt sat heavily in my chest. The worst part was knowing that maybe, just maybe, I had
Alexander The sharp knock on my office door pulled me from my thoughts. I blinked, dragging myself back to the present, and let out a deep breath before speaking. “Come in.”The door opened, and Daniel stepped inside, a file tucked under his arm. His usual composed expression was there, but I caught the faintest glint of excitement in his eyes as he walked toward my desk. That alone told me he had found something good.I leaned back in my chair, tapping my fingers against the armrest as I watched him place the file in front of me.“You have something?” I asked, my voice even.“I do,” Daniel confirmed, smoothing his tie as he stepped back. “I was looking into Liliana, as you requested, but while I was digging into her background, I came across some troubling information about her son, Harry.”I frowned, my gaze dropping to the file in front of me. The boy had barely crossed my mind before now. I knew he existed but I had never given him much thought. He was just a teenager, hardly sig
ConradI buried my face in my hands, my fingers pressing hard against my temples as if I could physically force the anger out of my mind. But the rage inside me was an uncontrollable wildfire. It filled my veins, burned through my chest and roared in my ears like a storm that would not end.Susanna had lost the baby.The words the doctor had told me replayed in my head over and over again, each repetition slicing into him like a freshly sharpened blade. The doctor’s voice had been flat and clinical but to me, it might as well have been a gunshot.And it was her fault. Abigail, that conniving, heartless woman had killed Susanna’s child out of pure, disgusting jealousy.I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I hated her. I hated her so much I could barely breathe. Even now, as I thought about her, I could picture her face while my Susanna was been curled up in a hospital bed, devastated and empty.She didn’t even have a shred of remorse. Not a single tear shed for what she
Abigail I kept my breathing even, my hands folded tightly in my lap to keep them from shaking. At Marceline’s command, Liam stepped away from me, tucking the syringe away as he slunk back into his seat like a dog that had been called to heel. Coward. Traitor. I refused to even look at him. He had betrayed me once with Susanna, and now again with Marceline. My baby was gone in part because of him. If I looked at him, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from lunging at him, from tearing into him with all the fury I had been forced to swallow down since the moment I lost everything. So instead, I focused on Marceline. She leaned back in her chair with the effortless authority of a queen surveying her court. Her sharp eyes watched me, searching for the smallest crack, the tiniest flaw in my expression that she could exploit. I refused to give her one. I had won this round, but just barely. I had only won because she had taken the bait. She believed what I had wanted h
LilianaI leaned against the wooden railing of the porch, watching my son, Harry, as he tumbled across the grass, his laughter ringing out in the cool morning air. His somersaults were a little clumsy, but he didn’t care. He whooped in delight each time he landed, rolling back onto his feet with that boundless energy only children seemed to possess. I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I rested my weight in the railing, arms crossed. He was growing up strong, clever, and bold, just the way I had raised him.My darling boy. So full of life, so energetic, so… mine.I had left Susanna’s bedside just a few hours ago, her face alight with a satisfaction so thick she was nearly glowing. She had done it. She had gone through with that reckless plan, taken a gamble I had warned her against, and somehow, miraculously, she had come out on top, despite all my reservations.But then again, Susanna had never been one to listen to me, had she? No, she always thought she knew best. Always believed
Abigail I sat on the weathered wooden bench, my body sinking into it as if the weight of the day had carved itself into my bones. The last time I had been at the city park, the sun had felt warmer, the breeze softer. But now, everything felt harsh, too bright and loud. The sunlight glared in my eyes, forcing me to squint, but I couldn’t muster the energy to shift to the shade.My phone sat heavy in my pocket, its screen dark after the short, urgent message I had sent to the Alexander, just four words .Come to the park.No explanation. No pleasantries. I half expected him not to come. He owed me nothing. But I couldn’t think of anyone else I wanted to see right now.I leaned my head back, closing my eyes against the relentless sun. Now that I was out of the house, with Marceline gone and Liam nowhere near, the adrenaline that had kept me upright was ebbing away, leaving behind a hollow ache in its place. Every part of me felt drained; my body, mind, heart.What a horrible day this ha
Abigail I stayed where I was, my head still resting against Alexander’s shoulder, my body refusing to pull away from the comfort he offered. It wasn’t much, but right now, it was enough. After what felt like forever, I finally spoke. “When you dropped me off earlier,” I said, “Marceline was waiting for me inside my home.”I felt his body tense slightly beside me. I wanted to glance up at him, to see if he was surprised by the news or if he had already expected it. But I didn’t move. I was too tired for that. A beat passed before Alexander spoke. “What did she say to you?” His tone was unreadable, but there was a sharpness under his usual calm.“She told me about her ties to Bonafide.” This time, Alexander didn’t shift beside me. “She’s the daughter of one of the most renowned criminals in the country,” I continued. “It’s still crazy to think about.”Alexander was quiet for a moment before saying, “I knew she had some connection to Bonafide.”I lifted my head slightly. “You did?”
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