CHAPTER 55

SHE HAS PLANS...

The next club meeting was at one of the hostesses’estates, an ocean-view mansion draped in white marble and glass, the kind of place built for displaying power rather than living in it.

Abigail arrived with every detail of her appearance chosen deliberately: the soft ivory dress Luke had once said made her look untouchable, diamond studs that caught the light without screaming for attention, and a calm she’d rehearsed in the mirror.

She walked in alone. Luke had insisted that when it came to the club, she had to stand on her own.

The lounge was already buzzing when she entered. Women draped in couture, glasses of champagne in manicured hands, laughter that didn’t quite reach the eyes.

She could feel them notice her, the way whispers slipped between smiles.

Obetta was the first to greet her, gliding over in a red dress that seemed designed to slice through the room.

“Abigail,” she purred, her eyes flicking briefly over her outfit. “I wasn’t sure you’d be back. Some people find our little gatherings… overwhelming.”

Abigail smiled, the same polite curve she’d given Carmen at lunch. “Some people mistake silence for weakness.”

Obetta’s brows lifted a fraction, but before she could reply, Carmen’s voice slid into the air.

“Ladies,” Carmen said, stepping forward with the effortless authority of someone who never had to announce herself. “Abigail, come join me.”

The invitation was casual on the surface, but in a room like this, it was a declaration. Carmen was claiming her whether the others liked it or not.

They moved toward a cluster of armchairs near the panoramic windows. The other women followed, drawn in as though by gravity.

The conversation started, light fashion week, charity galas but Abigail noticed the way Carmen directed it, asking Abigail questions that invited her to speak without forcing her into self-defence.

“And Luke’s latest project?” Carmen asked, her tone just curious enough to sound harmless.

Abigail kept her answer brief but confident, mentioning only what Luke had already made public. She could feel the others watching her, weighing her words.

One of the women Clarisse, wife to an oil magnate smirked over her glass. “And you keep busy how? Other than looking stunning at dinners?”

A ripple of laughter went through the group.

Abigail didn’t flinch. “By making sure the dinners are worth attending,” she said, her tone smooth.

Even Carmen’s eyes glinted at that.

Obetta, of course, waited until the conversation had warmed before sliding her strike into place.

“It’s admirable,” she said sweetly, “how you’ve adjusted to this… lifestyle. Some women struggle when they’re not born into it.”

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut.

Abigail’s gaze didn’t waver. “And some women mistake where they started for where they belong.”

A few brows arched. Someone coughed to hide a laugh.

Carmen leaned back, sipping her drink, a faint smile playing at her lips. She didn’t intervene not because Abigail needed saving, but because she’d already made her point.

By the time the meeting broke for a tour around the property, the shift in the room was unmistakable. The women still watched Abigail, but not all with hostility now. A few, she noticed, even looked… intrigued.

Later, as the guests began to drift toward their cars, Obetta intercepted her near the entrance.

“You think today means anything?” Obetta’s voice was low, her smile sharp. “One meeting doesn’t erase the fact that you don’t belong here.”

Abigail tilted her head, her voice quiet enough that only Obetta could hear. “Belonging isn’t given. It’s taken. And you’re standing in the way of someone who’s already decided to take it.”

Obetta’s smile faltered, just for a second.

Abigail walked past her without looking back.

That night, when she told Luke how it went, his expression was unreadable.

“You’re learning,” he said finally.

“Learning what?”

“That you don’t need me to protect you from them,” he replied. “But they do need to know you have me.”

Abigail thought of Carmen’s watchful eyes, the subtle shift in the room, and Obetta’s momentary crack.

Maybe, she realized, she was starting to understand the game.

……………………………………………

(Flashback)

The moment the meeting ended, Abigail’s shoulders slumped in relief. She had been polite, reserved, and just as Luke advised meek enough to keep the sharper personalities from seeing her as a threat.

But as the women dispersed, Carmen lingered. Her gaze swept over Abigail with the kind of interest that felt deliberate. “Walk with me,” she said, not as an invitation, but as though she was stating a fact that Abigail had no choice but to follow.

They moved together through the marble-floored corridor of the club’s east wing, the hush of their heels echoing in the air.

“You know,” Carmen began, “I’ve seen a lot of women come through here. Most are desperate to prove something. You didn’t try. That intrigues me.”

Abigail hesitated. “I wasn’t sure proving anything would matter.”

Carmen smiled faintly. “It doesn’t, at least, not here. But knowing when to keep your powder dry… that matters a great deal.”

At the end of the corridor, Carmen stopped in front of a tall, gilt-framed mirror. The sunlight hit them both, scattering gold over their reflections. “You handled yourself well, Abigail. Not everyone survives their first club meeting without making a mistake.”

The compliment caught her off guard. “I was just trying not to make enemies.”

Carmen’s eyes glinted. “Sometimes, my dear, making an enemy is exactly what puts you in the right company.”

Abigail didn’t know how to answer that.

As they reached the club’s entrance, Obetta swept past them, her perfume clinging to the air like a challenge. She didn’t glance at Abigail, but her lips curved in a knowing smirk when her eyes met Carmen’s.

The brief exchange between the two women told Abigail more than words could there was history there, and it wasn’t friendly.

“Careful with her,” Carmen murmured, watching Obetta walk away. “She plays games you won’t see coming until you’re already on the board.”

Abigail’s mind lingered on that all the way to the car.

 ……………………………………(Back)

Later, at home, Luke was already in the study when she walked in. He didn’t look up immediately, only spoke over the sound of turning pages. “You lasted the whole meeting. That’s better than I expected.”

“Better?” she teased, trying to draw him out.

He closed the book and studied her. “Most women come back rattled. You’re not rattled you’re… watching. That’s good. Just remember clubs like this aren’t just tea and gossip. Every conversation is currency.”

Something about his tone made her think he knew far more about the club’s internal politics than he ever intended to tell her.

She was tempted to ask, but then he added, “Carmen spoke to you, didn’t she?”

Her heart skipped. “Yes. She said I did well.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed slightly, not in suspicion but in thought. “Then she has plans. You’ll find out soon enough. Just… don’t let her steer you anywhere I wouldn’t approve.”

The warning was subtle, but she caught the edge beneath it.

And that was the thought that stayed with her long after he left the room.