CHAPTER 23

FREEDOM COMES AT A PRICE

The city stretched out before her like a glittering promise. Abigail sat in the back of the sleek black car, the weight of Luke’s black card in her clutch, feeling heavier than gold itself.

She’d told herself it was just shopping. Just clothes. Nothing more. But her reflection in the tinted glass whispered otherwise. The moment Luke placed that card on the table, she’d felt something shift. Something that left her both angry and breathless, remembering it got her so furious.

“You’ll have guards with you,” he’d said, his voice calm but absolute. “Don’t argue.”

And now here they were two hulking men in black suits trailing her as she stepped out of the car onto the sidewalk in front of Maison De Vrai, the most exclusive boutique in the city.

People stared. Of course they did. Abigail wasn’t used to this being the center of attention because of who she was married to. Because of him.

Inside, the boutique smelled of roses and wealth. Soft music drifted from hidden speakers as racks of silk, cashmere, and lace glowed under warm lights. A sales associate in heels that cost more than Abigail’s rent once had approached her with a blinding smile.

“Mrs. Vandell,” the woman purred, her eyes flicking to the guards behind Abigail. “We’ve prepared a private fitting room for you.”

The title still felt strange, like a coat two sizes too big. But Abigail didn’t correct her. She just followed, clutching the black card like a lifeline, knowing that card could buy everything she needs for a life time.

Minutes turned into an hour as she slipped in and out of gowns, dresses, and shoes that felt like art. The price tags made her stomach flip, but every time she hesitated, she remembered Luke’s voice: Buy whatever you want.

So she did.

Or maybe… she bought what she thought he’d like just maybe.

A deep emerald silk dress that hugged her waist like a secret. A black slip of fabric that barely counted as a dress at all. Heels so sharp they could kill.

When she was done, the bags were stacked like trophies by the door, and her reflection in the boutique’s gilded mirror looked like someone else entirely. A woman who belonged to this world.

Except she didn’t. Not really. Maybe not at all cause it will soon come to an end.

By the time Abigail returned to the estate, the sky had begun to darken, city lights flickering to life in the distance. The car rolled past iron gates and up the sweeping driveway, coming to a stop in front of the massive front doors.

The guards carried her bags inside, setting them carefully in the grand foyer before disappearing down the hall.

The silence in the house pressed against her skin as she slipped off her heels and ran her fingers through her hair. She wanted a glass of wine. A shower. Maybe even a moment to breathe before facing him so she won't shudder around him.

“Enjoyed yourself?”

His voice cut through the quiet like a blade.

Abigail froze, then turned slowly.

Luke stood at the bottom of the stairs, sleeves rolled to his forearms, dark slacks fitting like sin. His tie was gone, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing the strong column of his throat.

He looked… dangerous. Calm, collected, but dangerous in a way that made her pulse skitter.

“You scared the hell out of me,” she said, her voice coming out softer than intended.

His gaze swept over her slowly, taking in the loose blouse she’d changed into, the faint sheen on her skin from the late afternoon heat. Then his eyes flicked to the shopping bags behind her.

“Looks like you bought the store,” he said, moving closer.

“You told me to so I just did nothing much.” She lifted her chin, ignoring the heat creeping up her neck.

“I did.” His voice was smooth, but there was something under it something sharp. “So. Did you like spending my money?”

Her breath caught at the way he said it, like it was both a question and a challenge.

“I didn’t think about it that way,” she murmured.

“Then how did you think about it?” He was close now, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him.

Abigail’s fingers tightened around her clutch. “Like… freedom something that I get to do once in a blue moon.”

Luke studied her for a long moment, his jaw ticking just once before his mouth curved not into a smile, but something darker.

“Freedom comes at a price,” he said softly.

Before she could answer, he reached past her and picked up one of the bags. Pulled out the emerald dress she’d spent fifteen minutes staring at in the mirror. The fabric slid through his fingers like liquid.

“You’ll wear this tonight,” he said. Not a request. A command.

Abigail’s heart gave a violent twist. “And if I say no?”

His eyes lifted, locking on hers with that dangerous calm that made her knees weak.

“Then you’re still wearing it,” he said, voice so low it vibrated in her bones.

For a second, neither of them moved. The silence between them was heavy, electric, filled with all the things they weren’t saying.

Finally, Luke dropped the dress back into the bag and stepped away, his control like a wall slamming back into place.

“Dinner’s at eight,” he said, his tone flat now. “Don’t be late.”

And then he walked out, leaving Abigail standing in the middle of the room, her heart pounding like a drum she couldn’t silence.

“Dinner’s at eight” she mimicked him in a mocking way looking towards the direction he had taken, wondering where they were going. The sudden thought of seeing Kate and Obetta made her feel unsettled, not really scared. She just didn't have the energy to face anyone yet. Picking up the dress, she looked at it like she hadn't seen it at all. It really was beautiful, somehow she wanted to wear it cause he wants her to, not like she wants to. Tossing the dress aside she went into her room.