CHAPTER 84

YOU FEEL SAFE TO ME...

The night was quiet inside the Vandell estate. The lamps glowed softly in the living room, throwing warm shadows across the walls. The city outside buzzed faintly, but here, everything felt still, calm like the world had slowed down just for the two of them.

Abigail leaned into the sofa, her head resting lightly on her hand as she watched Maya fold the wrapper from her new dress back into the boutique’s bag. The clock on the wall chimed softly, reminding them that the night was stretching on.

Abigail hesitated, her lips parting as if she were about to say something. Then she exhaled and turned fully toward Maya.

“Stay,” she said quietly.

Maya looked up, puzzled. “Stay?”

“Yes,” Abigail nodded, her expression tender but a little shy. “I don’t want you going home this late. Sleep over here tonight. In the morning, I’ll ask my driver to take you home.”

Maya blinked, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding,” Abigail said quickly, shaking her head. Her eyes softened. “You… you feel safe to me. And I don’t want this night to end yet.”

Maya’s chest warmed at the honesty in Abigail’s voice. She set the bag down and smiled gently. “Then I’ll stay.”

Abigail’s relief was visible, the tension in her shoulders easing. She rose to her feet, offering her hand. “Come on. I’ll show you the guest room.”

But when Maya slipped her hand into hers, Abigail didn’t let go right away. The simple warmth of Maya’s touch lingered, and for a brief second, Abigail’s gaze softened with something unspoken.

She led her upstairs, their footsteps quiet against the polished wood floor. The guest room was large but cozy, painted in warm cream tones with a wide bed and soft curtains swaying gently by the window. Abigail set down extra blankets on the chair, her voice low.

“If you need anything, just call me. My room is right across the hall.”

Maya smiled faintly. “You make it sound like I’m staying at a hotel.”

Abigail chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe. But it matters to me that you’re comfortable here.”

The words carried more weight than she realized.

Later, after Maya had changed into one of the soft cotton nightgowns Abigail offered, the two found themselves sitting on the bed in Abigail’s room instead of the guest room. They faced each other with pillows tucked in their laps, the glow of the bedside lamp painting their features gold.

“Do you always let people talk to you the way Obetta tried to?” Abigail asked softly.

Maya shook her head. “No. But I also don’t go looking for fights. I only resist when someone tries to crush my dignity.you should know me abby.”

Abigail studied her, quiet for a moment. Then she said, “You know… you’re teaching me something. All this time, I thought strength was about power or wealth. But it’s not. It’s… it’s what you showed today. The refusal to be bought or moved.”

Maya smiled gently. “And you’re stronger than you think too, Abigail. You’ve survived more than most could handle.”

The compliment made Abigail’s throat tighten. She turned away briefly, blinking back the sting of emotion. “Maybe. But sometimes I wonder if I would have broken by now if people like you weren’t here.”

The silence between them was tender, their connection growing with every shared word.

Down the hall, Luke stood in his study, the door half open. He had heard the faint sound of voices, laughter spilling through the quiet corridor. His steps slowed when he realized it was Abigail and Maya.

He leaned against the doorway, listening not enough to intrude, but enough to sense the closeness growing between them. A flicker of emotion crossed his face. He wasn’t jealous, not exactly, but he couldn’t deny the knot forming in his chest. Maya had stepped into Abigail’s life with such ease, filling spaces he himself often struggled to reach.

He turned away, exhaling slowly, and shut his study door.

Across town, in a suite filled with the faint scent of perfume and wine, Obetta sat at her dressing table, her phone in hand. She had replayed the confrontation at the boutique over and over, but tonight, her rage had turned cold and sharp.

She dialed a number. A man’s voice answered after two rings.

“It’s me,” Obetta said smoothly. “I need information. About someone. Her name is Maya.”

There was a pause on the other end. “What kind of information?”

“Everything,” Obetta replied, her tone firm. “Where she lives, who her family is, her past. I want every detail. And I want it soon.”

“Consider it done,” the man said.

Obetta hung up, a cruel smile tugging her lips. “Let’s see how brave you are when I start tearing your life apart, piece by piece.”

Back at the Vandell home, Abigail and Maya had grown quiet. Abigail lay stretched on the bed, her head resting close to Maya’s shoulder. They weren’t touching, but the closeness was undeniable.

“Do you ever regret standing up for yourself?” Abigail asked suddenly, her voice sleepy.

“Never,” Maya replied softly. “Even if it costs me, I don’t regret it. Because regret only comes when you let fear silence you.”

Abigail let those words sink in, her eyelids heavy. She whispered, “Maybe that’s why I feel stronger when you’re around.”

Maya turned her head slightly, watching her with calm eyes. “You don’t need me to be strong. But if I can remind you of it, then I’m glad.”

Abigail smiled faintly, drifting into sleep with those words wrapped around her like a shield.

When sunlight spilled through the curtains the next morning, Maya stirred first. She sat quietly, looking at Abigail’s peaceful face. For the first time in a long while, Abigail seemed at rest no tension, no nightmares shadowing her.

Maya rose quietly, pulling the blanket back over her, and slipped into the hall. She didn’t notice Luke standing at the far end, watching silently.

His gaze lingered, not with suspicion, but with something deeper an ache, a recognition that Maya was becoming a pillar in Abigail’s world. And with that realization came a storm of emotions he wasn’t ready to face.

Later that day, Obetta received a message. A file had been delivered to her phone. She opened it, scrolling through photos and documents, her eyes narrowing with interest.

“So…” she murmured. “That’s who you are, Maya.”

Her smile sharpened. The game had only just begun.