CHAPTER 73

OYU HANDLED YOURSELF WELL...

The Vandell estate had a way of staging silent battles. No words needed to be spoken aloud, yet every gesture, every pause, every shift of the eyes was loaded with meaning. In this place, silence was sharper than swords, and acknowledgment whether given or withheld could change everything.

Abigail knew this all too well as she prepared for the evening’s gathering in the grand dining hall. It wasn’t a gala, nor a formal banquet, but one of those subtle “family dinners” that Luke’s mother often orchestrated to measure, to weigh, to remind everyone of their place. And in such rooms, Carmen thrived.

But tonight… something felt different

Kate Vandell had always carried herself with an untouchable aura. She spoke little but commanded everything. Tonight, as Abigail entered the hall at Luke’s side, she felt that aura turn ever so slightly not away from her, as it once had, but toward her.

It was not warmth. Kate was not a woman who wasted softness. But it was attention. Deliberate, measured attention.

When the servants pulled Abigail’s chair, Kate’s gaze lingered just long enough for Abigail to notice, then flicked away before anyone else could register it. During the opening courses, Kate’s questions floated across the table pointed, but not cruel.

“Abigail, what do you make of the proposed expansion of the charity arm in the northern district?”

A ripple of surprise traveled around the table. Carmen’s lips tightened, her fork clinking softly against her plate. Kate had not addressed Abigail directly at such gatherings before.

Abigail took a breath, steadying herself. She had been warned by Maya to “never play smaller than you are,” and she clung to that advice now.

“I think,” Abigail began carefully, “that expansion is admirable. But if it isn’t handled with genuine investment, it risks being seen as a vanity project. The people there… they need resources, not gestures.”

Silence stretched for a moment. Kate’s eyes sharp, assessing rested on her. Then, the faintest nod. Barely perceptible, but unmistakable.

Carmen saw it. And fury bloomed hot in her chest

By the second course, Carmen had decided. She would not let Abigail walk away from this dinner untouched.

She leaned forward slightly, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “Such strong opinions, Abigail. Tell me, have you ever even worked with charity boards before? These things are far more complex than appearances. One wouldn’t want to… overstep.”

The table shifted, attention pivoting like a compass toward Abigail. It was a trap an attempt to corner her, to make her admit ignorance or appear presumptuous.

Abigail felt her pulse quicken. She could feel Luke tense beside her, his protective instincts rising. But she caught his hand beneath the table, pressing gently. Let me handle this.

With a calm she barely felt, Abigail turned to Carmen. “You’re right. I haven’t sat on a board. But I’ve lived where those projects are supposed to help. Sometimes, experience outside the boardroom is just as valuable as the experience within it.”

The words landed like a stone dropped in still water, rippling outward. Several guests exchanged quiet glances.

And then it came. That soft, almost imperceptible sound from Kate. Not quite a chuckle, but something close. Her glass of wine was raised with a faint curve of her lips.

An acknowledgment. A silent endorsement.

Carmen’s throat tightened.

Through the rest of dinner, Kate’s gestures were small but deliberate. When the conversation shifted to the arts, she asked Abigail’s opinion on a new gallery opening in the city. When Luke spoke, Kate’s eyes flicked once toward Abigail, as if checking to see if she aligned with him.

To the untrained eye, it was nothing. But to Carmen who had spent her life reading Kate’s silences it was everything.

Kate was watching Abigail. Testing, yes but also giving her ground it almost seemed like she was beginning to accept Abigail to be her daughter in-law.

And Abigail, though nervous, was seizing it without hesitation.

The moment Carmen tried to reclaim the floor, her desperation bled through.

She waited until dessert, her smile sharp and false. “Abigail, I couldn’t help but notice you’ve taken quite an interest in these discussions. It’s refreshing, of course. But some might wonder do you intend to involve yourself officially in the family’s affairs? Or perhaps,” her eyes gleamed with venom, “you’re simply enjoying the stage?”

It was bold, too bold. The room shifted uncomfortably, the air heavy with unspoken tension.

Before Abigail could answer, Kate’s fork landed on her plate with a decisive clink.

“Carmen.” The single word was quiet, but it cut through the room like a blade.

Carmen froze. Kate rarely addressed her directly in public, and when she did, it was never good.

“This is a dinner,” Kate continued, her voice smooth but icy. “Not a courtroom. Let us allow people to speak without turning the table into a cross-examination.”

The rebuke was subtle, veiled in civility but clear. Carmen’s cheeks flushed with contained humiliation.

And when Kate turned deliberately back to Abigail, offering her the space to respond, the hierarchy in the room had shifted.

Abigail met Carmen’s eyes across the table, then answered with steady calm. “I intend to contribute wherever I’m allowed. Not for the stage, but for the work. If that’s too bold… then I’ll still do it.”

The silence that followed was heavy, almost reverent.

Carmen lowered her gaze, her knife dragging noiselessly across her plate.

She had overplayed her hand. And Kate had let her know it.

Later that night, as the house quieted, Abigail found herself in the library, the echoes of the evening still alive in her chest. She hadn’t planned to win anything hadn’t even wanted to. But something had shifted tonight, something she couldn’t quite put into words.

Luke joined her, leaning in the doorway, his eyes soft but proud. “You handled yourself well.”

Abigail glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Did I?”

“You didn’t just handle Carmen,” Luke said, stepping closer. “You earned my mother’s silence. And that’s rarer than her words.”

Abigail exhaled, pressing her palms together. “It feels… strange. Like I’m being drawn into something I’m not ready for it feels so I certain luke.”

Luke brushed his fingers along her jaw, tilting her face up to his. “You’re more ready than you think. Tonight wasn’t about what you knew it was about who you are. And she saw it.”

Abigail’s heart softened under his gaze. Yet, deep inside, she knew Carmen would not forget tonight. Nor forgive it.

In her chambers, Carmen tore at the ribbons of her gown with shaking hands, her reflection glaring back at her from the mirror.

Humiliated. At the table. By Kate. Before everyone.

And worst of all because of Abigail.

She paced the room, her mind ablaze with fury. Kate had always been cold, but tonight… tonight she had chosen Abigail over her. That could not stand.

Carmen’s voice trembled as she whispered to her reflection, “She thinks she’s clever. She thinks she’s untouchable. But she’ll learn. Abigail will learn.”

And with that vow, her schemes began to take shape once more, sharper and more dangerous than before.

Alone in her private parlor, Kate sipped her tea, her thoughts quiet but precise.

Abigail had shown more than she expected. Composure under pressure, intelligence without arrogance, a willingness to claim her voice without begging for it.

But Kate would not show her hand. Not yet. She would continue to test, to measure, to watch.

For in this family, favor was never given freely. It was earned in silence, under fire.

And Abigail, whether she realized it or not, was passing her first trials.

The storm within the Vandell estate was far from over. Tonight had only drawn the battle lines clearer.

Abigail, with her quiet strength, had gained ground.

Kate, with her silence, had revealed the faintest tilt of approval.

And Carmen, with her venom, had stumbled publicly for the first time.

But wars were not won in a single night. And the ones yet to come promised to be even more dangerous.