CHAPTER EIGHT

The Unwanted Guest

"Did you miss me, Luke?"

It was a familiar voice, too familiar and smooth. Abigail's steps stumbled as she looked at the woman standing with ease, elegantly dressed and amused.

Obetta.

She leaned against the grand piano in the Vandell estate’s sitting room, her lips curving in a smile that held history Abigail had no part in.

Luke didn’t react. His face remained straight and his body at ease —only silence. However, Abigail felt the heaviness of the moment, as if there was an obstacle between them.

"Why are you here?" Luke asked in a calm voice, but there was something cold and controlled about the way he spoke.

"Luke, aren't you happy to see an old friend." Obetta chuckled, brushing off some unseen dust off her sleeve. Your mother invited me, of course. She thought it was time for… a reunion."

Abigail's eyes went over Kate, who was sitting close to the fireplace, smiling comfortably. She wasn't trying to hide anything.

"And you accepted," Luke stated flatly.

"Why wouldn’t I?" Obetta’s gaze slid to Abigail, assessing, measuring. "I was part of this family long before she was."

The statement was light, almost playful, but Abigail caught the hidden edge below it. Kate smirked, rolling the wine in her glass.

"Oh, don’t be so cold, Luke," Kate drawled. "Obetta is just catching up. She is practically family."

Abigail lifted her chin. "I wasn’t aware past relationships came with lifetime memberships."

Obetta smiled wider, stepping closer. "Oh, sweetheart, some bonds aren’t so easily broken." Her eyes went over to Luke. "Isn’t that right?"

Luke remained unreadable, hands in his pockets, his expression a blank slate. He wasn’t defending Abigail, but he wasn’t entertaining Obetta either. That unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

"I don’t see the point of this conversation," Luke finally said, turning toward Kate. "If this was some attempt to make a point, you’ve wasted your time."

"Have I?" Kate’s lips curved. "The media is already questioning Abigail’s… credentials. Surely, you don’t expect them to just accept her?"

Abigail’s fingers curled, but she kept her voice even. "They will accept what they’re given."

Obetta laughed softly. "That’s cute." She moved closer, lowering her voice slightly. "You really think this world will let you keep your place? That Luke’s loyalty is yours?"

Abigail steadily looked into her eyes. "I don’t need to think. I know where I stand."

Obetta bent her head forward, her amusement deepening. "We will see."

Abigail saw it now—the challenge, the silent war beginning between them.

Luke exhaled, his patience running out. "This conversation is over."

But Abigail knew better. This was only the beginning.

Obetta’s laughter remained in the air, soft but filled with something heavier. Abigail refused to let it sink in her core.

"Relax, dear," Obetta remarked, pouring herself a glass of wine as if she owned the place. "I’m only here to remember old memories."

"You came here to prove something," Abigail responded, her tone steady.

Obetta’s lips curled. "Maybe. But can you blame me?" She leaned in slightly. "You walked into his life so suddenly. People are bound to question your place in it."

"People like you?"

"People who know Luke." Obetta’s gaze moved over to him. "And people who know that men like him don’t just fall in love overnight."

Abigail didn’t look away. She wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.

Luke, however, remained impassive, watching without interference. It annoyed Abigail—this silence of his.

"You’re very interested in my marriage," Abigail said smoothly, bending her head forward. "Strange, considering you left him."

Obetta didn’t flinch. "And yet, I’m still here. Funny, isn’t it?"

"Not really," Abigail shot back. "Desperation makes people cling to old things."

Kate chuckled at that, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. Abigail knew she had only entertained her.

Obetta simply smiled. "We shall see if you still have that confidence when this marriage is truly tested." She turned to Luke. "I will be around. We have a lot to catch up on."

Luke said nothing. His silence spoke louder than anything else in the room.

Obetta left first but her presence remained even after the door closed behind her.

Abigail exhaled, turning to Kate. "So this was your plan?"

Kate rolled her wine. "You married my son, dear. You should’ve known marriage isn’t just between two people. It’s about power, alliances. Do you really think you belong here?"

"Ask me that again when I’m still standing."

Kate laughed softly. "We shall see how long that last."

Abigail turned to leave, her pulse steady, her mind sharper than ever.

Luke followed, silent as ever. But just as they reached the entrance, he finally spoke.

"You handled that well."

Abigail stopped, turning to him. "You barely handled it at all."

"You wanted me to argue?"

"I wanted to know where you stood."

Luke’s gaze was unreadable. "If my assurance is what you need, then you're not in the right place."

Abigail held his stare. "Noted."

She walked ahead, but she felt it—the quiet war brewing in the air the car.

Luke followed, his presence looming but distant.

Abigail gazed out the window as they drove away, her thought spinning. Obetta wasn’t back just to reminisce. She had a purpose, and whatever it was, it threatened Abigail’s already fragile place in this marriage.

Her phone vibrated in her lap. A message.

She looked down as she read the words on the screen, her heart beating.

“Welcome to the real game, Mrs. Vandell.”

No name. No sender.

But Abigail didn’t need one. She knew exactly who it was from.

And she knew—this was just the start.