Project Abigail Novels & Stories

If you require my assistance, please feel free to contact me by paging me," Abigail states as she closes the door. Fortunate enough, I have an Assistant who does not micromanage and values punctuality. Maintaining a cordial relationship with Abigail is crucial to securing a face-to-face meeting. Moreover, her maturity level is evident from her professional conduct, which eliminates any potential discomfort. Plus, she is my mother’s age and happily married.

Hmm, I guess I have something to tease Abigail for. "Sooo, if you're done humiliating me, can we go back to why we came? We're here because I want to work with Reagan's whiskey house." "I figured. And I swear, if you make me prepare another set of documents and then change your mind, I'll sue you!" "No, no," Abigail raises her hands in defeat. " Actually, I want a normal contract with normal requirements." "So... No consignment?" "Mhm," Abigail nods and looks at me while placing her hand on my leg, then gently rub me from knee to the red zone. This gesture of hers might cost her lunch. First the short skirt, now a hand under the desk. She's playing a dangerous game.

“Because ending it now would give him what he wants proof that you’re untouchable without me. But letting him believe he’s clever… gives me the upper hand. He’ll reveal himself. And when he does, I’ll be ready.” That night, Abigail sat in her study, going over the project documents Luke had insisted she review. She traced her finger over the lines of the blueprint, her mind replaying every word of the day. She didn’t want to be a pawn in some battle between men, but she also understood what Luke meant. Power wasn’t always about shutting doors. Sometimes it was about standing tall even when someone tried to pull you in. Her phone buzzed suddenly. A message. Unknown number. I look forward to w

she said apologetically to Tony, casting a glance at Ashley, who gave her a warm smile. "Don't keep me waiting," Tony responded dryly, as Abigail stepped out of the office to answer the call. It took longer than expected, as he was reporting an emergency. Abigail was having a headache. Today, she was supposed to supervise and ensure everything was in place before handing it over tomorrow. In a nutshell, her job was almost done therefore, the news frightened her since she would have to work extra days to get the artists to redo the paintings that were reported missing. Before she could come up with a plan, he suddenly said,

Abigail could feel her blood pressure rising but she calmed herself down, telling herself inwardly that she was not going to let a pampered princess brat ruin a good business deal for her. This was not her first time of business with Darlington inc and it had always been so profitable for both sides. Even if she did have a thing for working with disciplined people, she was going to let this slide. After making a million pointless observations about the coffee shop and sipping on the mocha that she surprisingly didn't complain about, she was finally able to look through the documents that contained the details of the project. After skimming through it, she just dropped it back into Abigail's

It was a labor of love, a tribute to Sophia's enduring spirit, and a testament to the profound belief that, through storytelling, they could inspire and uplift others on their own journeys of love and resilience. As the project to share Sophia's story unfolded, it took on a life of its own, expanding its reach and weaving its narrative into the lives of an ever-growing audience. Abigail's poignant writing, filled with the essence of love and sacrifice, resonated with readers and listeners alike, becoming a source of inspiration and hope for those navigating their own challenges.

Trying to clear his head, Cassian shifted gears. "Monitor the merger of those two tech groups tomorrow. Promote Abigail to Team Lead." Humphrey looked skeptical. "Alpha Cassian, Abigail hasn't even been with the firm for a year. That R&D team will have over a hundred people after the merger. Can a young girl really handle that?"

I walked back out to leave them to it, poor Elza has more to deal with than just clothes, I shake my head. I enter my office and find Abigail sitting at my desk, her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth as she jots down something on paper. I just stand there staring at her and remember her toddler picture and chuckle. She picks her head up and smiles, “hey baby, I was just l drawing out something I thought would be nice out by that waterfall."

Minutes later, a hesitant text from Abi finally came through: "Hey Lizbeth, I heard... I'm really sorry but I can't come over right now. I'm swamped with studies." The flimsy excuse didn't fool Lizbeth for a second. She fumed, her anger simmering beneath the surface. She tried calling other friends, one after another. Each call was met with vague excuses, busy signals, or outright rejections. "I'm not feeling well," "I have family visiting," "I'm out of town." The thinly veiled lies infuriated her. Her social empire, built on manipulation and fear, was crumbling. Enraged, and feeling the walls of her room closing in, Lizbeth summoned one of the household servants. "Go to my apartment," she c

“You didn’t tell me because you knew it was going to put me in danger. I’m certain your parents also don’t know about this because it will also put them in danger. Since you have all these concerns, why are you still working with him?” “I don’t know,” I confessed. “But if you want me to stop, I will. I’ll terminate the contract right now and pay the break fees. I will do anything. Just stop… stop looking at me like that.” I pleaded. Abigail and I had just gone through a lot together; we lost our child. Now she was looking at me as though she never knew me. “I don’t want you to stop working with them because of me but because you don’t want to.”