She is back.Luke tossed his phone onto the desk with tension on his shoulders. Abigail studied him, the rigid set of his jaw, the way his fingers moved before forming a fist, annoyed, frustrated, maybe both. Who was that? She asked, her voice steady, though something in her chest tightened. No one that concerns you. Lies. His grip on control was too sharp and too forced. She took a step forward, catching the waver when she said, Your mother, wasn't it? He didn't answer, but his silence was an answer itself. She's furious, isn't she? Abigail bent her head, pushing it just a little. I assume she had someone else in mind, someone more suitable. His gaze locked onto her dark and indifferent. Abigail smirked, though her pulse betrayed her. You're a billionaire. Luke, surely you could have picked a bride your mother actually approves of. His lips pressed into thin lines. I don't need her approval. The way he said it too sharply and quickly made something in her stomach twist. T
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