CHAPTER 65

YOU TURNED HER INTO A HERO...

The night was far from over, though the glitter of the gala had begun to fade into memory for most of its guests. The chandeliers dimmed, the chatter waned, and yet two very different storms brewed in separate corners of the city.

Carmen and Obetta:

Obetta slipped into Carmen’s suite at the hotel where the event had been hosted, her gown still sparkling but her confidence long since dimmed. Her painted lips were pressed into a tight line, and her posture, usually upright and commanding, sagged under the invisible weight of humiliation.

Carmen was waiting. She hadn’t left the ballroom immediately after Abigail’s triumph; instead, she had lingered, socializing, smiling, controlling the narrative as only she could. But when she finally dismissed her entourage and ascended to her suite, it was with a storm simmering in her chest.

The moment Obetta entered, Carmen’s expression hardened. She didn’t stand to greet her. She didn’t offer a drink. She merely fixed her with the kind of stare that made even the boldest of women falter.

“Well?” Carmen’s voice was soft, but it sliced through the silence like a blade. “Do you plan on explaining why you made a spectacle of yourself tonight?”

Obetta swallowed, wringing her jeweled clutch in her hands. “Carmen, I…”

“You what?” Carmen snapped, her tone cutting, her scowl deepening. “You thought you could handle Abigail Vandell? That you could humiliate her in public, and instead you handed her the stage? You turned her into the hero and yourself into a fool.”

Obetta’s cheeks burned crimson. “I didn’t expect Maya to…”

“That’s exactly the problem.” Carmen’s voice rose slightly, the venom of her disappointment spilling over. “You didn’t expect. You didn’t prepare. You let yourself underestimate them, and now half the city is laughing about how you were cornered by a woman they dismissed as nothing more than a sidekick.”

Obetta’s lips trembled, anger and shame colliding in her chest. “I thought I was helping you.”

“Helping me?” Carmen stood now, her movements deliberate, predatory. She stepped closer, her eyes blazing. “Helping me would have meant victory. Helping me would have meant Abigail fleeing that ballroom in tears. Instead, you reminded everyone why I never put you at the forefront. You’re sloppy, Obetta. You act on impulse. And tonight, you humiliated yourself and by extension, me.”

The words stung like lashes. Obetta’s breath hitched, but pride forced her chin upward. “I can still fix it,” she whispered.

Carmen studied her for a long, cutting moment before chuckling humorlessly. “Fix it? You? My dear, tonight showed the limits of your usefulness. From now on, you will do exactly as I say, when I say it. No more improvisation. No more foolish stunts. Do you understand?”

Obetta wanted to retort, to claw back some measure of dignity, but under Carmen’s icy gaze, her voice withered. “Yes, Carmen.”

“Good.” Carmen turned away, dismissing her with the mere shift of her shoulders. “Now get out of my sight. I have to think.”

Obetta lingered for only a heartbeat before fleeing, her heels clicking against the marble like echoes of defeat.

Carmen stood by the window, staring out at the city lights, her mind already moving past Obetta’s failure. Abigail had surprised her tonight. Maya, too. But Carmen had not risen to power by allowing surprises to linger. No, she would adapt, recalibrate, and when the time came, she would strike harder than before.

The Vandell Estate:

The Vandell estate lay quiet when Abigail and Luke returned later that night. The gala’s glimmer felt a lifetime away, replaced by the serene hush of their home. Staff members discreetly melted into the shadows, leaving the couple to their privacy.

Abigail slipped out of her heels in the foyer, sighing with relief as the plush carpet cushioned her bare feet. Luke watched her with a small smile, loosening his tie as they made their way into the grand sitting room.

Maya had stayed behind, ushered home by the driver after heartfelt goodbyes. Abigail had insisted; Maya had given enough tonight.

For the first time that evening, silence embraced them. Luke poured two glasses of brandy from the crystal decanter on the sideboard and handed one to Abigail before settling beside her on the velvet sofa.

“You were magnificent tonight,” he said, his voice low but full of conviction.

Abigail tilted her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I wasn’t alone. Maya was ”

“Yes,” Luke interrupted, his gaze steady on hers. “Maya was brilliant. But so were you. You didn’t flinch, Abigail. You walked in there with her at your side, knowing they’d try to tear you apart. And instead, you showed them a unity they couldn’t fracture.”

The warmth of his words seeped into her chest, loosening knots she hadn’t realized she’d carried. “You’re proud of me?” she asked softly, almost uncertainly.

Luke’s expression softened further, his eyes shimmering with something deeper than pride. “I am. More than you know.”

For a long moment, they sat in silence, sipping their drinks, the fire crackling quietly in the hearth. The weight of the evening seemed to settle between them, but not as a burden rather as a shared triumph.

Abigail set her glass down, her gaze thoughtful. “Obetta tried so hard to humiliate us. And Carmen was watching. I know this isn’t over, Luke.”

“No,” Luke agreed, leaning back, his jaw tightening. “It’s not. Carmen never stops. She’ll use every weakness she can find, every ally willing to betray. But tonight, you showed her that you’re not a pawn on her board. You’re a player in your own right.”

His words struck something deep within her. For so long, she had lived under shadows Luke’s, Carmen’s, society’s. But tonight had been different. Tonight she had stood tall, not just as Luke’s wife but as Abigail herself.

She smiled faintly. “Then we’ll keep playing.”

Luke’s lips curved in a rare, genuine smile. He reached over, his hand covering hers, warm and grounding. “Together.”

The firelight danced across their faces, casting them in shades of gold and shadow, two figures bound not just by circumstance but by a growing bond that no scheme could sever.

Outside, the estate stood silent and strong against the night, a fortress not just of stone but of will. Inside, Abigail and Luke shared a quiet certainty: the battles ahead would be fierce, but they would face them side by side.

And in the quiet depths of her heart, Abigail knew Carmen could scowl, Obetta could scheme, society could whisper but she was no longer afraid.