CHAPTER 107

I'LL BE READY

The next morning dawned with the sharp brightness of summer, the kind of light that made the marble floors of the Vandell estate glow like liquid silver. Abigail sat by her vanity, running the brush through her hair with a distracted hand. She had slept poorly, waking every hour with thoughts of the meeting replaying in her mind. Oscar’s voice, smooth and persuasive, still echoed in her ears. She had seen the gleam in his eyes, the quiet insistence in his words. It wasn’t about the project. It was about her.

And now, she was being drawn into the middle of it.

A soft knock broke her thoughts. Luke’s reflection appeared behind her in the mirror, his tall frame filling the doorway. He looked freshly dressed in a dark suit, his tie perfectly knotted, his cufflinks gleaming. His presence was commanding, but his eyes lingered on her with something softer, though unreadable.

“You’re ready,” he said, not as a question but a statement.

She turned slightly in her chair. “Am I really doing this?”

Luke stepped further into the room, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Yes. You are.”

Her throat tightened. “I didn’t ask to supervise some massive project. I don’t even understand why he”

“Because he thinks he can get to you this way,” Luke cut in, his voice firm, low. “That’s why you’ll do it. Because I don’t run from men who think they can touch what’s mine. I make them realize they can’t.”

The words sent a shiver through her. There was jealousy in him, yes, but also a strange kind of faith. He was giving her power, trusting her to step into his world even if part of him was doing it to keep the enemy close.

By noon, they were in the city, the Vandell convoy drawing eyes as it rolled to a stop outside the Dixon tower. Abigail had been inside countless grand buildings with Luke, but something about this visit set her nerves on edge. She adjusted the sleeve of her cream blouse, clutching the portfolio Luke had handed her earlier, though she doubted she’d use it.

Inside, the Dixon offices gleamed with polished wood, glass, and cold efficiency. Oscar was already waiting, leaning casually against the reception desk. His suit today was lighter, charcoal with a subtle sheen, and when he saw Abigail, his lips curved into that smooth, practiced smile.

“Mrs. Vandell,” he greeted warmly, straightening. “You look radiant. A pleasure, as always.”

Luke’s hand settled possessively at the small of her back before she could reply. His eyes were ice. “You’ll address her formally in business settings, Dixon.”

Oscar only chuckled lightly. “Of course, Mr. Vandell. Shall we?”

The meeting room was prepared with blueprints laid out across the wide table, the city skyline stretching behind them through glass walls. Abigail took her seat, with Luke beside her and Oscar across. Several Dixon executives filed in as well, though it was clear who commanded the room.

Oscar explained details, pointing to locations on the plans, describing the vision for the project. Abigail listened, taking notes even though her mind buzzed with a thousand other thoughts. Every so often, Oscar’s gaze flicked to her, as if searching for approval, as if she was the one whose opinion mattered most.

At one point, he leaned forward, his tone directed toward her. “You see, Mrs. Vandell, this isn’t just about concrete and steel. It’s about creating an environment. A place where people feel seen, where elegance and accessibility meet. Don’t you agree?”

She hesitated, then nodded faintly. “I… suppose that makes sense. People want more than walls. They want a lifestyle.”

Oscar’s eyes lit up, as though she had given him the exact answer he had wanted. “Precisely. That’s why you’re perfect for this. You understand instinctively.”

Luke’s fingers tapped once against the table, the only sign of his irritation. Abigail felt the heat of his gaze on her, as though warning her not to be taken in.

Hours passed, the discussions circling through logistics, financing, design. Though Abigail said little, Oscar made sure to involve her, asking for her impressions, even on the smallest details. She felt the weight of it the eyes of the Dixon team, the quiet approval in Oscar’s smile, and the sharp edge of Luke’s silence beside her.

When the meeting finally adjourned, Oscar rose and buttoned his jacket. “Shall we schedule the first site visit, Mrs. Vandell? I’d like you to see the property firsthand.”

Abigail opened her mouth to reply, but Luke spoke first. “Any arrangements will go through me. She doesn’t take directives from you.”

Oscar inclined his head smoothly, though his eyes still lingered on her. “Of course. I’ll wait to hear from you then.”

The drive back to the estate was quiet, the tension thick enough to choke on. Abigail finally broke it, her voice soft. “You see? He doesn’t even hide it. He wants me involved for the wrong reasons.”

Luke’s jaw flexed, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “I know.”

“Then why let this continue?” she whispered.

His gaze flicked to her, dark and unyielding. “Because ending it now would give him what he wants proof that you’re untouchable without me. But letting him believe he’s clever… gives me the upper hand. He’ll reveal himself. And when he does, I’ll be ready.”

That night, Abigail sat in her study, going over the project documents Luke had insisted she review. She traced her finger over the lines of the blueprint, her mind replaying every word of the day. She didn’t want to be a pawn in some battle between men, but she also understood what Luke meant. Power wasn’t always about shutting doors. Sometimes it was about standing tall even when someone tried to pull you in.

Her phone buzzed suddenly. A message. Unknown number.

I look forward to working with you, Abigail. Some things are worth the effort.

Her breath caught. Oscar.

She deleted the message immediately, her heart hammering. When she lifted her eyes, Luke was leaning against the doorway, watching her.

“Who was that?” he asked quietly.

She swallowed. “Nothing important.”

He stepped closer, his presence filling the room, his eyes burning into hers. “You don’t lie well, Abigail. Not to me.”

Her throat tightened, but she held his gaze. “It was Oscar. He… sent me a message.”

Luke’s face darkened, his jaw tightening. For a moment, she thought he might explode in fury. But instead, he leaned down, pressing his lips to her ear, his voice low and lethal.

“Let him send as many as he wants. Let him think he’s winning. But never forget, Abigail… you are mine. And no one steals what belongs to me.”

Her chest heaved, caught between fear and reassurance. She nodded faintly, knowing there was no easy way out of this not yet.

But as she lay awake that night beside Luke, she couldn’t shake the truth that Oscar Dixon had stepped into their lives with intention. And the games he was beginning to play were only just starting.