Chapter 49 (1)
Abigail
The clang of the cell door behind me was still ringing in my ears as I sank down onto the narrow cot. The hours passed like a slow drip from a leaky faucet, each minute a terment of restless thoughts. I had handed the police Conrad’s phone number so they could contact my lawyer, it here I was, still sitting in this freezing, oppressive cell without a single update. No lawyer. No explanation. Just the weight of my own thoughts.
The scene with Marcy played in an endless loop in my head Every word, every expression, every misstep. Why hadn’t I been more cautious? Why hadn’t I insisted on meeting in public, the way I had done with Daniel? I had known the risks, hadn’t I? After everything that had happened in my life lately, how could I have been so careless?
My head throbbed as I pressed my palms against my temples. If Daniel were to suddenly meet the same fate as Marcy, at least there would be CCTV footage showing he’d left the restaurant alive. The thought made my stomach twist with unease, but the grim truth was undeniable. I had walked into Marcy’s home that morning with no witnesses, no cameras, no proof of my innocence. The walls of my mind were closing in, reminding me of how stupid I had been
I slapped my temple lightly, as if that would somehow reset my brain, clear the fog of regret and panic. It didn’t. The memories only swirled faster and louder.
The metallic screech of the cell door unlocking jolted me out of my dark thoughts. I snapped my head up as one of the officers who had arrested me, the woman, stepped inside. She didn’t look at me directly, her tone brusque as she said, “You’ve got a visitor.”
1
A visitor? My heart stuttered, and against all reason, my stomach dipped. For a brief, desperate moment, thought it might be Conrad. Maybe he’d come to his senses, realized the gravity of the situation, and brought a lawyer with him to clear this mess.
I stood, clearing my throat to keep my voice steady. “Who is it?”
The officer didn’t answer, just grabbed my arm–not too gently–and began leading me out of the cell. Her silence only made the dread pooling in my gut grow deeper. The cold fluorescent lights of the hallway did nothing to calm my nerves as she marched me toward the visitor’s room.
When she swung the door open, I froze in the doorway. The man sitting inside there was not Conrad, but Daniel Woods.
He was sitting at the small metal table, as composed as ever. His hands rested lightly on the table, and his dark eyes met mine with a calm intensity that made my breath hitch. The faintest trace of his cologne lingered in the air -subtle, refined. Familiar.
Too familiar.
The officer barked, “You’ve got fifteen minutes,” before slamming the door shut behind me.
Daniel gestured politely to the chair opposite him. “Mrs. Remington,” he said, his tone as measured as always.” Come sit.”
I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My mind was spinning, fragments of realization snapping together like pieces of a shattered mirror. That scent–his cologne. I knew it. It was the same one that had clung to Alexander’s jacket, the one he’d draped over me the day I was kidnapped. It was unmistakable.
Like a light switch flipping in my brain, everything suddenly clicked.
Daniel isn’t Daniel.
+25 MONUS
Chapter 49 (1)
He never was.
My breath caught in my throat as I stared at him, dumbfounded. The reserved demeanor, the careful choice of words, the quiet authority it had been there all along. The disconnect I’d felt between the Daniel I spoke to on the phone and the one I’d met in person wasn’t my imagination.
The man sitting across from me now, this “Daniel,” was none other than Alexander Remington. Heir to the Remington Group. Conrad’s brother.
The revelation hit me like a bullet train, and 1 bit down the hysterical urge to laugh. Of course, the carefully styled bangs falling over his forehead were part of an expensive wig. The oversized glasses? A simple but effective tool to obscure his features. And then there were the details I’d overlooked before: the Manolo Blahnik brogues that gleamed like mirrors, the subtle shimmer of a Diamond Edition Stuart Hughes sult, worth more than what most secretaries earned in a decade. How had I not noticed? What assistant dressed like a billionaire at a charity gala?
What a fool I’ve been.
He stood from his chair with an easy grace that sent a pang of shock through me. My breath hitched. Alexander was standing. The man I’d been told needed a wheelchair to move was standing, walking, moving with an ease that should have been impossible.
I remembered the warning Conrad had given me in the car shortly after the kidnapping, warning me about how dangerous Alexander was. A flicker of fear coiled in my stomach, but I forced it down. Whatever Alexander’s game was, he clearly didn’t want me to know who he really was. That was a card I’d hold close to my chest.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low, calm.
I managed a stiff nod, though my heart pounded like a drum. Forcing myself to take a step forward, I sank into the
dark and chair opposite him, the metal cold even through the fabric of my clothes. His eyes followed me, unreadable.
I had to play this carefully.
“You’re not a lawyer,” I said dryly, keeping my tone steady. “I thought all visitors at this point had to be legal counsel.”
His lips quirked in the barest hint of a smile. “Special permissions can be arranged.”
I leaned back in my chair, keeping my expression carefully neutral. “Then why are you here, Daniel? What could be so urgent that you’d go out of your way to visit me in a police station?”
He adjusted his flawless tie, the movement smooth and practiced. “I came to bail you out.”
1 stiffened. “Bail me out?”
“It’s an insult,” he continued, his voice turning sharp. “To have someone associated with the Remington name locked up in a cell. This situation-”
“Is insulting to you,” I cut in, my voice cold, “Noted. But where are the lawyers, then? Or is this some kind of Remington family exercise in tough love?”
For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Then he sighed, his composure cracking just enough to let a hint of frustration show. “The police called the estate,” he admitted, his tone clipped. “A few calls were made to our lawyers, but Conrad ordered them to stay on standby.”
Chapter 49(2)
Chapter 49 (2)
His words made anger and humiliation burn in my chest as absorbed them. My nails dug into my palmed to process the audacity of it all. Conrad had deliberately left me stranded here.
“And if I want a lawyer?” I asked, my volce tight.
“You’ll have to hire one yourself,” he replied without hesitation, “or settle for a public defender.
The gall of it. My fists clenched so tightly I thought my nails might break the skin. My mind raced back to my best conversation with Conrad, to the coldness in his voice, the way he had demanded I pay him for every single on my mother’s medical expenses before Marceline had interrupted us. Was this his way of typening her to punish me? Of making a statement?
I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to focus. Conrad’s cruelty wasn’t the problem I needed to solve right now. 1. turned my attention back to Alexander-“Daniel,” I reminded myself silently–and fixed him with a hard star “So why are you here?” I demanded. “If even the Remington family lawyers have been told to stay away, wis would you bother coming?”
He straightened slightly, his expression unreadable. “I don’t work for the Remington family,” he said simply work for Alexander Remington. And my employer doesn’t believe it’s right for a pregnant woman to rot in a cell without even being charged.”
My breath caught, a flicker of confusion cutting through my anger. He said it so matter–of–factly, as though be were talking about the weather. And yet, there was something in his tone, a subtle undercurrent of tension, the made me wary.
I leaned forward, placing my handcuffed hands on the worn wooden table between us. “I don’t need your boss’s pity,” I said sharply.
Alexander’s gaze flicked to the cuffs around my wrists, his faw tightening ever so slightly.
Raising my hands just enough to draw his attention, I continued, “What I need is an answer. Right now. I don’t have the luxury of giving you twenty–four hours to decide whether you’ll work with me. So, tell me, Daniel–are you in or not?”
For a moment, the room was silent, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife. Alexander’s eyes met mine, and I could see the gears turning in his mind.
Finally, he leaned back in his chair, his expression as composed as ever. “With you, Mrs. Remington, my instinct leads me to believe the word no was never really a choice.”
Relief surged through me, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I sat back, nodding once. “It would be right.”
I had no idea what game Alexander was playing, but for now, he was the only ally I had. And if he thought I was just another desperate damsel in distress, he was in for a rude awakening. The weight of the cuffs around my wrists felt heavier as I stared across the table at “Daniel,” the man who wasn’t Daniel at all. I forced myself to keep my face impassive, to school my features into calm neutrality despite the overwhelming wave of emotions in
chest. The rage, the confusion, the flickering spark of suspicion–all of it had to stay hidden.
my
“I’ll start the process to bail you out,” Alexander said, his voice carrying that measured, almost soothing cadence he’d perfected as “Daniel.” It grated against my nerves now, knowing it was all an act. It had all been an elaborate charade. And I had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.
“No.” The word escaped me sharper than I’d intended, but I didn’t regret it. “I’m not leaving Being here is the best possible thing right now.”
H
Chapter 49 (2)
+25 BONUS
He blinked, clearly taken aback. For once, the mask of perfect composure cracked, and I could see the irritation behind his gaze. His lips parted as if he were about to deliver some scathing remark, but then he stopped himself, his jaw tightening instead.
Alexander leaned back in his chair, the faintest trace of a smirk playing on his lips. “Enlighten me, Mrs. Remington,” he said, his tone sardonic, “how is staying in a dingy cell the best–case scenario?”
I glanced at the closed door, making sure the officer wasn’t lingering nearby. Dropping my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, I leaned forward, resting my bound wrists on the table. “This is the best time to set a trap,” I murmured.
His brows furrowed, skepticism written all over his face. “trap?
“Yes, a trap.” I nodded, feeling the faintest flicker of satisfaction at the shift in his expression. “Think about it. How perfectly did this all come together? The murder of a woman I haven’t spoken to in months-
“Since the jewelry incident,” he interjected.
I narrowed my eyes but pressed on. “Exactly. I haven’t seen or spoken to Marcy since that whole mess. Yet somehow, I find myself conveniently framed for her murder on the very day I meet her for the first time since then. The evidence came together too perfectly. It stinks of desperation. Someone has been watching me, waiting for the right moment to strike.”
Alexander’s eyes darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Go on.”
“And what are the odds this happened now,” I continued, “when I’m actively investigating the kidnapping incident? Nothing is a coincidence. Someone wanted me immobile and out of the way.”
#
“Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times. His voice trailed off, and he met my gaze, his expression unreadable. “Three times is enemy action.” He tapped his fingers on the table, the sound rhythmic, thoughtful. “The fact that the Remington family’s lawyers can’t touch this is telling, isn’t it? Someone doesn’t want you to have resources.”
I felt my jaw tighten as anger flared in my chest. “Yes,” Lagreed. “Whoever’s behind this wanted me out of the way, and they wanted it done quickly. They’re afraid of something I’m getting close to. Maybe I would have struck gold by getting some crucial information.”
Alexander’s gaze sharpened. “And yet you refuse to leave here.”
“Because leaving now would play into their hands,” I said. “They expect me to panic and to act irrationally. But I’m not going to give them that satisfaction. I’m going to stay right here and make them think they’ve won. And while they’re celebrating their victory, I’ll be laying the groundwork to expose them.”
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as his fingers steepled together. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Alright, Mrs. Remington. You’ve convinced me there’s merit to your theory. How exactly do you intend to spring this trap of yours?”
22
