CHAPTER 72

DON'T BREAK…

The Vandell mansion, vast as it was, had an uncanny way of carrying whispers. Servants who said little, who moved with silent precision, often saw more than they were supposed to. And so, when Kate Vandell summoned Abigail for a private audience, the murmurs spread faster than wildfire.

By the time Abigail had left the blue salon with her composure intact, Carmen had already heard.

Carmen’s Unease:

She sat in her own chambers, a place of opulent drapery and heavy perfumes, though neither brought her comfort today. The moment her maid reported what had happened that Kate had summoned Abigail for tea Carmen’s jaw tightened.

Kate had never wasted time on women she didn’t consider important. And she had certainly never invited one of Luke’s companions least of all a woman like Abigail, someone Carmen had considered unworthy from the beginning.

Carmen dismissed her maid with a wave and paced the length of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floors.

“This isn’t right,” she muttered to herself. “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to go.”

For weeks she had maneuvered carefully, dropping sly words, making calculated moves to remind Abigail of her place. She had whispered doubts into the ears of those who mattered, tried to align Obetta as her tool, and even attempted to sway Kate herself.

But Kate was unpredictable. And now, instead of rejecting Abigail, she was… testing her. Measuring her.

Carmen clenched her fists. “If Kate begins to see worth in her… then everything shifts.”

The thought made her stomach twist. She had always believed that control over the Vandell legacy would remain within her grasp, secured by her influence, her ties, her ability to manipulate from the shadows. But if Abigail started earning respect even subtle, hidden respect then Carmen’s position weakened.

No, she couldn’t allow it.

Her mind spun with possibilities, each one darker than the last. Should she try to plant seeds of doubt in Kate again? Or perhaps move to expose Abigail’s vulnerabilities in public? Carmen smirked bitterly to herself. Abigail carried herself with poise, yes but no woman could remain flawless forever.

“She’ll crack,” Carmen whispered. “And I’ll be there when she does.”

Still, unease gnawed at her. For the first time, Carmen felt a shadow of fear creeping along the edges of her confidence.

Abigail and Maya

Meanwhile, Abigail had retreated to her private wing with Maya, the one person she could truly breathe around. Luke had insisted on giving them space, perhaps sensing that Abigail needed a different kind of support than he could offer.

The two women sat in the sunroom overlooking the gardens, the late afternoon light bathing them in gold. Maya stretched lazily on the sofa, a glass of wine in her hand, while Abigail sat opposite her, twisting her fingers together as she tried to recount the morning.

“She asked me everything, Maya,” Abigail said softly. “About my upbringing, my thoughts on politics, even what I considered my greatest flaw.”

Maya whistled low. “That sounds less like a chat and more like an interrogation.”

“It was,” Abigail admitted. “But it wasn’t cruel. It was… deliberate. She was studying me, like I was a puzzle she wanted to solve.”

“And what did you give her?” Maya asked, leaning forward.

Abigail smiled faintly. “Enough. Not too much. I showed her that I can think, that I can hold my ground. But I didn’t pretend to be more than I am.”

Maya’s expression softened. “That’s exactly why you’ll win, Abby. You’re not playing a role you’re just being you. And that’s the one thing they don’t expect.”

Abigail let out a slow breath, some of the tension loosening from her shoulders. “But what if it’s not enough? What if she decides I’m… lacking?”

Maya set her glass down with a gentle thud. “Then she’s a fool. But I don’t think she’s a fool. She’s Luke’s mother sharp, calculating. She doesn’t waste time on people she thinks are irrelevant. The fact that she called you at all means she sees something.”

Abigail’s gaze fell to her hands. “Carmen won’t like it. She’ll fight harder now.”

Maya chuckled dryly. “Let her. Carmen’s biggest flaw is that she thinks everyone else is a piece on her chessboard. But you? You’re not playing her game. You’re making her play yours, even if you don’t see it yet.”

Abigail tilted her head, studying her friend. “You always make it sound so simple.”

“That’s because it is,” Maya replied. “Carmen’s scared. And scared people make mistakes.

Carmen’s Reflection

In her room, Carmen sat before her vanity, staring into the mirror. Her reflection looked flawless, but she saw the cracks in her own expression the tension in her jaw, the faint lines at the corners of her eyes.

She hated this feeling. Fear. Doubt. They were emotions she had spent her life stamping out of herself, replacing them with control and calculation. Yet here they were, crawling back into her chest because of a woman she had once dismissed as inconsequential.

“Abigail,” she whispered the name with venom, as if speaking it aloud could diminish it.

But it didn’t.

Instead, it lingered in the air like a threat.

Abigail and Maya, Continued

The evening stretched on, and the two women’s conversation grew easier, lighter. Abigail found herself laughing again, something she hadn’t done freely since arriving at the estate. Maya had that gift of reminding her who she was beneath the layers of expectation.

At one point, Abigail leaned back and said softly, “Do you ever think I’m in over my head?”

Maya smirked. “All the time. But that’s never stopped you before.”

Abigail laughed, covering her face with her hands for a moment before letting them fall. “You know, sometimes I wonder if Kate is testing me to see if I’ll break. And sometimes… I wonder if she’s hoping I won’t.”

“Then don’t break,” Maya said simply. “Show her you’re stronger than anyone thought. Show her you’re Luke’s equal. Not just his partner his match.”

Abigail felt the words sink into her like a seed taking root. Luke’s equal. His match.

“Yes,” she whispered. “That’s what I want.”

Carmen’s Resolve

As the night deepened, Carmen’s uncertainty solidified into something harder, sharper. She would not let Abigail rise. She would not let Kate’s interest tip the balance.

Pulling out her writing desk, she dipped her pen into ink and began drafting letters carefully worded messages meant to stir doubts in allies, to remind them of Abigail’s “outsider” roots, her lack of pedigree.

If Kate was testing her, Carmen would find a way to sabotage the results.

And if Abigail was growing stronger, Carmen would make sure to cut her down before she reached too high.

Her hand moved swiftly across the paper, every stroke fueled by her quiet fury.

“This isn’t over,” she whispered to herself. “Not by a long shot.”

***

As Carmen plotted in darkness, Abigail sat with Maya in the golden light of the sunroom, her laughter echoing against the glass. One woman fought to keep her place through manipulation, while the other strengthened herself through truth and loyalty.

They were on a collision course one inevitable, one unstoppable.

And both knew, in their own way, that the next encounter would not be as simple as words over tea or veiled insults at a gala.

The storm was building.