Novelas y relatos de Abigail Western

Abigail Liliana tilted her head. “I’m only impressed, Abigail. Really, I am.” Her voice took on a thoughtful quality. “I didn’t think you had it in you. All these years playing the good little wife, the gentle Remington daughter inlaw, the dependable daughter and sister… what was it that broke you, and has got you playing dirty just like us?.”

She briefly asked about Christina’s father and younger siblings before finally turning her attention directly to Abigail. “Who is she?” she asked, her tone suddenly sharp and curt. Unlike the warmth she had shown Edward and Christina, Elizabeth scrutinized Abigail with an intense, piercing gaze. It was so overwhelming that Abigail felt almost suffocated beneath it, struggling to breathe. Those cold, domineering eyes… they looked remarkably similar to Mark Harrison’s. “This is Abigail Spencer, Mother. She’s the cousin of Mark’s personal assistant. She’s staying with Nora for the time being,” Margaret quickly explained.

Every damn one of them. Within minutes, I was back at the office. The door hadn’t even closed behind me when Alex straightened from where he stood by the window, tablet in hand. “Talk,” I ordered, settling into my executive chair. He swiped the screen and passed it to me before he also sat down. “Abby wasn’t raised like a typical Alpha’s daughter.” My eyes narrowed as I scanned the report. “She was mostly kept out of pack affairs,” he continued. “Treated like a maid in the pack ever since she turned eighteen and couldn’t shift.”

Could it be that some high-ranking person's mistresses or misters have made connections and come here to torment them? Others obviously had doubts about Abigail's age as well. How could someone like her manage a company? "With your playing style, it was impossible to win within three to five months." Abigail patted the chubby woman's shoulder and said, "Work hard and earn more money." As Abigail was about to leave the Design Department, her gaze unintentionally caught sight of a girl in the corner wearing headphones, with her back facing them, drawing something on a white paper. She walked over and took a look. She saw the girl sketching a little dress, which looked ordinary. However, a stac

She gently smoothed the crease between my brows and said, "Don't worry. Let me take care of something this trivial." I held her hand and shook my head. "This started with me, so I should be the one to end it. Let me handle this." When I appeared before Abigail, her face was soaked with tears, and her eyes were bloodshot. "Connor, I have lost everything! This is all because of you!" she shouted. She ripped open her clothes, revealing a row of explosives strapped around her waist. "Make Grace leave you and marry me! Otherwise, I will detonate this right here!"

Amelia who was oblivious to it didn't know they were talking about her. The woman walks towards the door of the president's office. She carefully knocked as the president was quite in a bad mood these days after his daughter had died. "Come in," a deep voice said. The woman opens the door and showed a business smile. "Mr. Ivote I have the report about miss Amelia ready," she said in a monotone voice. She laid down the documents on top of the president's table. "Unfortunately, I couldn't find much. Somehow, almost all of the records concerning her were deleted from the country's intelligence. However, I managed to find her school where I hired someone to interview some staff" the secretary ex

She scrolled through the list, her eyes narrowing when she found the name she was looking for: "Ghost." This was the alias of the individual who had orchestrated the attack on Megan and connected her to the assailant. Her fingers trembled as she composed a message. "Are you sure everything was handled? No loose ends?" She hit send, her breath catching in her throat. Even with her mother’s swift legal maneuvers, a cold knot of fear had been tightening in her stomach. The police had been surprisingly persistent, and while her mother had managed to get her released due to "lack of sufficient evidence," Lizbeth knew the truth. And the truth, if it ever surfaced, would shatter her privileged exis

Safe didn't hear the clacking of heels approaching her not when it stopped. “It's you, isn't it?” Abigail raised her head to meet a woman wearing an offensive amount of lipstick and a frown. She didn't know her. But she was popular now, after annoying the entire pure wolf community. “Alpha Ethan is not around,” she replied, ignoring the woman's attitude. “If you'll kindly drop your —” “I'm not here to see Ethan,” the woman said, cutting her off. “I saw Ethan all weekend and this morning.” Of course, Abigail thought.

Abigail ran as fast as she could through the woods, away from the house and away from her sisters. She loved them very much but she was tired of being weighed down by them. She felt bad for feeling that way about them, it wasn’t their fault. But she couldn’t help the way she felt. It was past time to be alone for a while. She thought about going back to the house they have in Scotland, or maybe Ireland. She only brought a small duffle bag with a few clothes. She didn’t have to bring much because all of their houses had clothes and everything they needed. All she needed was her passport, ID, and some cash, all which she had in her purse. She changed her clothes before she left, she didn’t wan

Mrs Paxton said in a grave tone. I spun to look at the person greeting. It was the woman I saw with Mr Paxton. They were still standing, rather closely, beside one another but did not hold hands. “Oh, it's the appraised future daughter-in-law,” The woman, by the name of Abigail, said. Her dark haired fell in length and waves past her shoulder. Her white dress clunged to her desirable body. She stood out like a delight instead of sore thumb amongst the rest of us dressed in green.