CHAPTER 63

THEN I'LL FALL STANDING...

The city’s night skyline glimmered like a thousand jewels scattered carelessly across black velvet, but for Carmen, there was no beauty in it. She stood at the tall glass windows of her penthouse, a glass of red wine swirling in her hand, her reflection sharp against the glittering lights.

Abigail’s words replayed in her mind quiet, precise, cutting in their own way. And yet with him, I’m everything you’re not. It wasn’t just defiance; it was mockery. And Carmen couldn’t abide mockery. Not from someone she considered a child playing in a world she didn’t deserve.

“You’re too quiet.”

Obetta’s voice drifted from the silk-draped lounge chair where she sat, legs crossed, her own glass of wine untouched. She had been watching Carmen with that sly smile of hers, the one that always suggested she had an angle no one else could quite see.

Carmen turned, her expression cool. “Silence doesn’t mean surrender.”

“It almost sounded like it,” Obetta drawled. “She humiliated you without raising her voice. Clever little thing. I almost admire her.”

The stem of Carmen’s glass cracked beneath the pressure of her grip. Wine spilled down her fingers, staining them crimson, but she didn’t flinch. “Admiration is wasted on her. She’s nothing more than Luke’s ornament. And ornaments break.”

Obetta leaned back, eyes narrowing. “Then break her.”

…………….,.............................

Two days later, Abigail sat in her sunlit drawing room, her phone pressed to her ear. The sound of Maya’s laughter came through, warm and alive, cutting through the heaviness that had been clinging to her since the club meeting.

“You should have seen Carmen’s face,” Maya was saying between bursts of laughter. “Oh, Abby, if I had been there, I would have stood up and applauded. You’re finally learning how to wield your tongue like a blade.”

Abigail smiled faintly, leaning back into the sofa cushions. “It didn’t feel like victory, Maya. Not really. It felt… necessary.”

“Necessary or not, it was brilliant. And about time. You’re not just Luke Vandell’s wife, you’re Abigail. You can’t let them chip at you like you’re some glass figurine.”

Abigail exhaled slowly. “That’s exactly what Carmen wants for me to crack. She hates that I don’t.”

Maya’s voice softened, turning thoughtful. “Then don’t give her the satisfaction. You’ve faced worse, Abby. You survived when everyone wanted you forgotten. Do you really think a woman with too much money and too little soul can undo you?”

The warmth in those words filled Abigail with quiet strength. She didn’t know how desperately she’d needed to hear them until now. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Always,” Maya said firmly. “I’ve got your back.”

Abigail hung up a while later, her chest lighter, her spirit steadier. She didn’t know that even as she clung to her friend’s support, Carmen was already weaving a web with Obetta, and Maya herself was about to be pulled into it.

At Carmen’s next gathering, the air was thick with perfume and tension. This time, Carmen didn’t sit like a queen. She prowled the edges of the lounge like a huntress, her eyes sharp, her words dripping with charm that hid poison.

Abigail arrived, calm as ever. But this time, Carmen’s weapon wasn’t words. It was information.

“Did you know,” Carmen began, her voice lilting as though she were sharing idle gossip, “that Abigail’s little friend Maya has been seen at the docks? Such an odd place for someone of her background. Unless, of course, she’s meeting someone… unsavory.”

The women chuckled, leaning in for more. Carmen’s smile widened, her eyes locked on Abigail. “Rumors, of course. But you know how smoke rarely rises without fire.”

Obetta chimed in smoothly. “I wonder how long before your husband hears of it, Abigail. He values discretion above all. Friends with… questionable ties are rarely tolerated in circles like this.”

Abigail’s spine stiffened. She forced her face into calm neutrality, though her heart thudded painfully in her chest. They were dragging Maya into this. They were painting her with shadows to get to Abigail.

She didn’t respond. Not yet. Instead, she allowed Carmen and Obetta to chatter, to laugh, to lay their false threads in the ears of their audience.

That night, back at the estate, Abigail found herself pacing Luke’s study. He watched her from behind his desk, his expression unreadable, his hands steepled beneath his chin.

“They’re trying to drag Maya into this,” she said finally, frustration edging her voice. “Carmen told them lies that Maya was meeting someone shady, that she’s some kind of liability. Luke, she’s my friend. She’s the only person outside this house who’s stood by me.”

Luke’s eyes darkened. “Carmen plays dirty. She’ll drag anyone through the mud if it means unsettling you.”

“Then what do I do?” Abigail demanded. “If I defend Maya too loudly, they’ll say it proves the rumor. If I stay silent, it looks like agreement. Either way, she gets hurt.”

Luke rose slowly, coming around the desk until he stood before her. His hand settled lightly on her shoulder, his gaze steady. “You do what you’ve been doing, Abigail. You hold the line. Don’t let Carmen see you rattled. As for Maya ” His eyes flickered with something sharper. “I’ll look into it. If Carmen’s spreading filth, I’ll burn it out.”

Abigail’s lips parted, but she said nothing. There was something chilling about the quiet ruthlessness in his tone, the promise of destruction if anyone dared touch what was his.

The following afternoon, Maya visited Abigail at the estate. She arrived with her usual energy, but Abigail saw the worry flickering beneath her bright smile.

“They’re talking about me, aren’t they?” Maya asked once they were alone in the garden. She sat on the stone bench, her hands folded tightly in her lap. “I heard whispers before I even walked through the gates.”

Abigail sat beside her, reaching for her hand. “Carmen started it. Obetta feeds it. But it’s not true, Maya. I know it isn’t.”

Maya gave a small, humorless laugh. “Of course it’s not. Docks? Unsavory men? The most unsavory thing I’ve done in weeks was argue with a tailor who tried to overcharge me for silk.”

Abigail smiled despite herself. “Then we’ll fight it. Together.”

Maya’s eyes softened. “Abby… don’t let them pull you under because of me. If standing by me puts you at risk”

“Stop,” Abigail cut in firmly. “I won’t let them isolate me. That’s what Carmen wants for me, to cut ties, to stand alone. But I won’t. You’re my friend, Maya. That doesn’t change.”

Maya’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, her eyes glistening. Then she nodded, squeezing Abigail’s hand back.

Neither of them noticed Obetta, watching from a distance, her lips curving into a smile that promised more venom yet to come.

The week that followed became a blur of quiet warfare. Carmen spread whispers like wildfire. Every event Abigail attended, she could feel the shift polite smiles masking suspicion, laughter carrying the faint ring of cruelty. They didn’t come at her directly; they came at her through Maya.

“She’s compromised,” one woman murmured as Abigail passed.

“Dangerous to be associated with,” another whispered.

Abigail kept her face composed, but inside, the words sliced deep. She returned home each evening exhausted, her patience fraying at the edges.

One night, Luke found her standing at the balcony, the city sprawled beneath her, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“Carmen won’t stop,” she whispered when he came to stand beside her. “Not until she thinks she’s won.”

Luke’s hand slid to her waist, grounding her. “Then don’t let her win.”

Abigail turned her face up to him, her eyes blazing with something fierce. “I won’t.”

The next gathering was inevitable. Carmen made sure of it. Abigail walked in, Maya at her side, her grip on her friend’s arm both protective and defiant.

The room fell into its usual hush. Carmen rose from her seat, her emerald gown glimmering, her smile sharp as a knife.

“Well, look who decided to bring her… accessory,” she purred, her eyes flicking to Maya. “How bold.”

Abigail didn’t hesitate this time. She stepped forward, her voice ringing clear across the lounge. “She’s not an accessory. She’s my friend. And if anyone here has the audacity to question her character, then they question mine as well.”

A murmur swept through the room. Carmen’s smile faltered, just slightly, before she tilted her head with feigned sweetness. “Then you’ll fall with her when the truth comes out.”

Abigail’s eyes locked on hers. “Then I’ll fall standing, Carmen. Something you’ve forgotten how to do.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Even Obetta, usually so quick to chime in, said nothing, her gaze darting between them with flickers of unease.

Maya stood taller at Abigail’s side, pride shining in her eyes.

For the first time, Carmen’s control of the room wavered. And Abigail, standing calm and resolute in the center of it all, knew she had just drawn a line that could never be erased.