CHAPTER 30

YOU'RE MY WIFE, ABIGAIL...

Abigail stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of her soft blue blouse. Her fingers trembled slightly, and she scolded herself for it. It wasn’t the first time she was stepping into a public space as Luke Vandell’s wife, but this was different. Today, he was taking her to the company, his company. And she would be meeting his staff, the people who had known him far longer than she had, the people who likely knew everything about his past… including Obetta.

A knot tightened in her stomach as she thought about last night. Obetta’s unexpected arrival. Her bold attempt at seduction. The look on Luke’s face caught somewhere between disbelief and cold irritation. But it was Abigail’s words that had sealed the moment. Calm. Steady. Gentle. But also firm, claiming her place beside him without shouting.

Now, she was supposed to walk beside that same man into his world. A world of polished glass walls, expensive suits, and expectations she wasn’t sure she could meet.

“Are you ready?” Luke’s voice drifted from the hallway.

She turned slightly to the door, inhaling slowly before replying, “Yes.”

He stepped in, dressed in a crisp black suit, his hair styled neatly, a watch that gleamed under the overhead lights. He looked like power in human form.

His eyes flicked over her, unreadable for a second, then he walked in without a word. No compliment. No smile.

Just a small nod.

It hit her like a chill breeze.

Luke hadn’t been the same since last night. Still gentle, still protective, still touching her when necessary, but quieter. Distant. As though something had shifted inside him. His kisses were lighter. His eyes lingered less.

She followed him downstairs, where the car waited, and the driver opened the door without a word. Luke didn’t offer his hand. He simply slid into the back seat, and she climbed in beside him.

The silence in the car wasn’t tense. It was heavy.

She peeked at him once or twice, but he didn’t look her way. His eyes were on his phone, his jaw tight.

“You’re quiet,” she said softly.

“I have a full schedule,” he replied, still looking at his screen.

Her fingers fidgeted with her clutch. She gave a small nod. “Of course.”

He finally glanced at her then, as though sensing her unease. “Don’t let them get to you.”

“Who?”

“The people at the company,” he said. “They’ll talk. It’s what they do.”

Her heart skipped. So he knew. And he was… preparing her?

She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

The rest of the drive passed in near silence.

The Vandell Corporation headquarters loomed ahead like something out of a modern movie. All glass and steel and elegance. The kind of place that hummed with money and influence.

Luke exited first and walked ahead, not bothering to wait. She followed closely behind, heels clicking softly against the marble floors as they stepped into the grand lobby. Staff looked up, some froze. Others murmured. Abigail could feel the eyes on her.

She walked straighter.

Luke led her to the elevator. Only when the doors closed did he finally glance her way again.

“You’ll be fine.”

She tried to smile. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t.”

He blinked, a ghost of a smirk brushing his lips. But it vanished quickly.

On the top floor, they stepped into an open-plan space filled with glass offices and polished wood. A long hallway stretched toward his private office, where two assistants stood waiting. The moment they saw her, their smiles faltered only slightly but Abigail noticed.

“Good morning, Mr. Vandell,” one of them said.

Luke gave a nod. “Call for a quick assembly in the main conference room. I want everyone there in five.”

Abigail blinked. An assembly?

One assistant turned to her with a smile a little too bright. “Mrs. Vandell, would you like something to drink?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Luke walked into his office, leaving the door open. Abigail followed him in, her voice low.

“You’re calling everyone?”

He sat behind his desk and gave her a look. “They’ll keep whispering if I don’t make things clear.”

Her breath caught.

This wasn’t just a visit.

It was a statement.

Ten minutes later, Abigail stood beside Luke at the front of a sleek glass-walled conference room. Dozens of staff sat in chairs, eyes wide with curiosity, confusion, and in some cases, open judgment.

Luke’s voice cut through the murmuring. 

Silence fell.

“I won’t take much of your time,” he said, his hand brushing the small of Abigail’s back lightly. “I wanted to formally introduce Abigail Vandell. My wife.”

A few gasps. A few hushed whispers. And then silence again.

“She’ll be around the building occasionally,” Luke continued, tone cool and commanding. “Treat her with the respect her position deserves.”

He didn’t smile. Didn’t joke. Just said it like law.

And no one dared argue with law.

He turned to her. “Would you like to say anything?”

She hesitated, her mouth dry. But then, she gave a small smile.

“Thank you all. I’m… honored to meet the team behind this incredible company. I look forward to learning from all of you.”

Short. Safe. Simple.

Luke gave a small nod. “That’ll be all.”

The room slowly emptied. But not before the whispers began again.

“Is that really her?”

“She looks so… young.”

“She’s pretty but do you think she’s really his type?”

“I heard she used to work at a diner.”

“She’s not even dressed like she belongs here…”

Abigail pretended not to hear.

But each word hit like a tiny pin to the skin.

Later, Luke walked her to a lounge room where she could wait while he handled a few meetings.

She turned to him, her voice barely above a whisper. “Did you hear them?”

“I always do.”

“And you still brought me?”

He looked at her fully then. “You’re my wife, Abigail. That’s not a secret I intend to keep.”

“But they think I’m not… good enough.”

His jaw clenched. “Let them.”

She looked at him, really looked. And for the first time, saw the pressure he carried. The burden. The way he tried to balance control and protection all at once. Maybe that’s why he had pulled away a little. Maybe it wasn’t rejection but retreat. A way to shield both of them.

She stepped closer, her fingers brushing his wrist. “I can handle whispers, Luke. But not distance. Not from you.”

His gaze dropped to her hand, then lifted to meet her eyes again. Softer this time.

“I’m not trying to pull away.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to figure out how to keep you safe,” he said. “In a world that doesn’t want you in it.”

She swallowed. “I didn’t ask you to do that alone.”

A beat of silence.

Then he leaned down and kissed her temple. Soft. Lingering.

“I’ll be done in two hours,” he murmured. “Then we’ll go home.”

She nodded.

And he left.

Two hours later, they rode home in the car again. But this time, the silence was different. He was watching her more. Their hands brushed. When he walked her into the house, he asked what she wanted for dinner.

And when she replied, “Whatever you eat,” he only smiled and said, “Then we’ll order something together.”