CHAPTER 56

I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS A TEST...

The days after the meeting carried a strange undercurrent. Luke didn’t ask for a detailed play-by-play, but he watched her a little differently as though he was measuring not whether she had survived the club, but whether she had claimed ground.

Two mornings later, Abigail received a cream- coloured envelope delivered by hand. There was no return address, only her name written in looping black ink.

Inside was a single card:

Abigail,

Private luncheon. Friday at one. The terrace at Elmare’s. No substitutions. C.

It was Carmen’s handwriting.

Elmare’s was the kind of restaurant where reservations took months to secure and the sea was framed like art through the glass. When Abigail arrived, a hostess guided her past the main dining area and out to a secluded terrace where Carmen sat alone at a table for two.

“Sit,” Carmen said, her voice warm but carrying the weight of a command.

Abigail did.

“You handled yourself well the other day,” Carmen began, pouring them both champagne without asking. “Most women fold when Obetta decides to… test them.”

“I didn’t know it was a test,” Abigail said carefully.

“Everything is a test.” Carmen’s smile was slow, knowing. “Especially here.”

They spoke for nearly an hour. Carmen’s questions weren’t idle, they were probes, slipping into subjects that most of the club women wouldn’t dare discuss openly.

Finally, Carmen leaned in. “There’s a smaller circle within the club. We don’t meet at luncheons or mansions. We meet where no one else thinks to look on yachts, in private wings, in places you can’t be seen unless you’re meant to be there.”

“And you’re telling me because…?”

“Because,” Carmen said, “you might fit. But fitting means knowing the rules before you even walk into the room. And it means understanding that no one in that circle is there for company. They’re there for power.”

Abigail’s pulse quickened. She didn’t ask who else was in that circle she already suspected.

What neither women noticed was that Obetta was seated at the far end of the terrace, concealed by a wall of glass and greenery, her coffee untouched.

She had been there when Abigail arrived. She had heard enough to know Carmen’s interest was real. And that made her furious. She felt so angry that Abigail could take over Carmen’s favour just like that for someone that just came into the world.

That night, Abigail told Luke only part of the truth. She mentioned the luncheon, not the “inner circle.” She wasn’t sure why maybe because she wanted to see if she could navigate it on her own.

But Luke’s eyes narrowed anyway. “Carmen doesn’t invite people for no reason.”

“She said I did well at the meeting.”

Luke’s mouth curved faintly, though his voice stayed cool. “If she’s drawing you in, Obetta won’t stay still. Watch her, she isn't the type to let things she wants slip out just like that. She, sure is going to take drastic measures sometimes, she doesn't even think before acting. She just does away with whatever comes in her way, she doesn't care”

“You know I'm still curious as to know you guys story, I mean relationship how it started and ended, more like a gist from my husband or am i not allowed to know.”Abigail had said to luke trying to draw out something from him.

“That would be story for another day Abigail vandell” he pronounced the name like he was trying to give her some sort of assurance that whatever happened between he and Obetta meant nothing to him now …especially now she was in his life.

Obetta is and will always remain his past.

Meanwhile, Obetta was already in motion.

Her calls that evening were short and sharp, to women whose influence ran deeper than appearances suggested. She reminded them of past favors, hinted at debts yet to be repaid, and in each conversation, Abigail’s name came up like a thorn in silk.

By the time the next club event was announced a private evening gathering on one of the city’s most notorious yachts lines were being drawn.

And Abigail didn’t even know yet that the waters she was about to enter were far more dangerous than the champagne surface made them appear.

…………………………………………

(2 days earlier)

The drive back from the club was quiet, though Abigail could feel Luke’s attention on her even when he didn’t speak. He had that unreadable calm about him, the kind that told her he was processing every detail she’d shared earlier.

When they finally reached the estate, he didn’t head straight to his study like he often did. Instead, he followed her into the sitting room, loosening his tie with a slow, deliberate motion.

“You’ve been thinking,” he said, watching her from the doorway.

“I have,” she admitted. “About what Carmen said. About the way some of the women look at me like they’ve already decided who I am without knowing me.”

Luke’s mouth curved faintly, though it wasn’t amusement. “That’s because in their world, perception is reality. It doesn’t matter what’s true, only what they believe is true. And they’ll test you, Abigail. Not because they care, but because it’s sport to them.”

She studied him, wondering how much of this he’d already anticipated. “And if I fail their tests?”

“Then you’ll learn,” he said simply. “And then you’ll be better the next time.”

Later that night, after dinner, he found her on the balcony, the city lights winking in the distance. Without a word, he draped his jacket over her shoulders.

“Luke,” she murmured, “are you sure this is worth it? The club, the whispers, the games?”

He leaned close, his voice low against her ear. “It’s worth it because I said it is. And because you’re mine and they need to see that every single time you walk into a room.”

Her pulse skipped at the weight behind his words.

For all his control, Luke never wasted sentences. And right then, she knew he wasn’t just preparing her for the club. He was preparing her for something far bigger.