Chapter 32 (1)
Abigail
The nylon bag in my hand felt heavier than it should have, even though all it contained was a simple change of clothes and my phone which was all I had to pack here. As I stepped out of the bedroom, I almost collided with Conrad.
“Abigail,” he said, his voice happy. His face was lit up as if he had just won some prize. Before I could step back, he wrapped me in a hug, his arms firm around me. “Are you ready to leave?”
I nodded, the gesture small and noncommittal, but it was dough for him.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you coming back home,” he said, stepping back but keeping a hand lightly
my shoulder. “The house has been… empty without you. It’s lost all its charm.”
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Charm? The word bounced around in my mind. If charm were what he was after, then perhaps he shouldn’t have filled my absence with Susanna’s presence. But I bit back the thought, swallowing it like a bitter pill. Instead, I hummed softly and stepped out of his hold.
The air outside was cool, biting at my skin as we walked to Conrad’s car. As we approached the car, I found myself speaking before I even realized I had formed the thought. still can’t believe it,” I said, my voice small.
Conrad glanced at me as he opened the passenger door for me. “What can’t you believe?”
Sliding into the seat, I looked straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. “That Alexander could be such an evil mastermind. It feels like something out of a movie, doesn’t it? The trusted older brother secretly plotting something so heinous…” I trailed off, shaking my head. “I respected him, you know?”
I settled into my seat, faking an attitude of casualness even as my heart beat a little faster. I didn’t know if this comment would prompt Conrad to reveal more–or if it would raise suspicions–but I had to try.
Conrad was quiet as he slid into the driver’s seat, his silence telling. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer at all, but as he started the car, he finally spoke.
“I felt the same way at first,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “When Susanna first told me the truth about Alexander, I didn’t want to believe her. How could I? He’s my brother. We grew up together.” He paused, glancing at me as if he was trying to work out my reaction. I kept my face neutral, my hands folded in my lap.
“But then the pieces started to fall into place,” he continued, his tone taking on a hard edge. “The deals he made, the way he’s manipulated people over the years–it all started to make sense. He’s not who he pretends to be, Abigail.” His hand reached for mine, resting on my thigh. “You can be sure of that.”
The weight of his hand was unbearable. My instincts screamed at me to pull away, but I forced myself to stay still and let him think his touch was welcome. If Conrad even suspected that I wasn’t fully invested in coming back to him, he would dig deeper. And if he dug too deep, he might find out my plan.
But it wasn’t Conrad I was afraid of. No, it was the Remington name that held the real power, a name that operated like a well–oiled machine of influence and control There was a chance Conrad might not hold me back if I wanted to leave, but his family? They would make my life a living hell for daring to walk away,
They would only see my desire for freedom as a desire to stain their pristine reputation.
Conrad’s hand rested in mine, warm and steady, but my fingers barely curled around his. It was a careful balance, This pretense I was keeping.
“What’s your proof?” I asked softly, keeping my voice even
Chapter 32 (1)
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“Proof?” His smile dipped as my question hung in the air between us. His fingers tightened ever so slightly around mine, a subtle reaction I didn’t miss. I kept my expression calm, though my heart hammered in my chest. I could almost hear it, loud and insistent, as if it was warning me not to press too hard. But I had to. I couldn’t. afford to let Conrad’s vague reassurances pacify me anymore.
I nodded, my eyes fixed on him. “Yes, proof, Conrad. Evidence. Something concrete that shows Alexander orchestrated this. Because right now, all I’ve heard is Susanna’s words.” I paused, letting my words sink in. ” Yesterday, you said it yourself–Susanna was the one who aimed Alexander was involved in illegal dealings. Susanna was the one who said Alexander was ready to silenge her because she knew too much. Susanna said this, Susanna said that.”
Conrad’s grip on my hand tightened slightly as he tensed, but I didn’t flinch. “I understand why you would feel that way,” he said, his voice soft. “But you have to trust me Abigail–Susanna wouldn’t lie about something like this.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from scoffing. It was always about trust with Conrad, but trust was a luxury I couldn’t afford anymore.
I shook my head. “What is your proof, Conrad?” I asked again, my voice becoming a little sharp. “What do you know for certain? What have you seen with your own eyes? What makes you so sure that Alexander–your own brother–planned the kidnapping that nearly got me killed?”
Chapter 32 (7)
Chapter 32 (2)
Abigail
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“I’m not saying Susanna is lying,” I added quickly. “But you can’t expect me to believe something so… so extreme without any kind of proof. This is Alexander we’re talking about, Conrad. He’s been nothing but kind to us.” 1 shook my head in confusion. “Why would he go from that to this? It doesn’t make sense. Right now, without any evidence, it feels like you’re asking me to take a leap of faith without a net.”
Conrad sighed heavily, releasing my hand as he leaned back in his seat. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, a nervous tick he probably didn’t realize he had. “I want to let you in on what I know, Abby. Believe me, I do. But I never wanted you to be dragged into this. Telling you would feel like the whole purpose of protecting you has been defeated. You were supposed to remain untouched by this mess.”
I leaned into my seat, unable to stop myself from snorting in a way that was not ladylike. “Conrad, I was dragged into this from the moment those men knocked me out and whisked me away. If I can go through that, I can definitely survive seeing whatever you have against Alexander.”
Conrad’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he nodded. “All the confirmation you need is in my study back home. He pulled his hand away from mine to shift gears. “It’ll be the first thing I show you once we arrive.”
I looked out the window as the car began to move, watching the scenery blur past. As the car wound its way through the city streets, I mentally rehearsed my next steps Conrad didn’t speak much since his reluctant promise to show me the evidence against Alexander. I wasn’t sure if it was guilt, anger, or something else entirely that kept him quiet, but I didn’t press. I had said what I needed to say, and now all I could do was wait.
When we finally turned onto the long drive leading to the Remington estate, I felt my stomach tighten into a knot of unease. But it wasn’t the house that made me pause. Something was… different. My eyes swept over the front gates as they opened with their usual mechanical groan, but it wasn’t the gates that caught my attention–it was the men.
They were everywhere, like dark shadows scattered across the estate grounds. Uniformed men with hard expressions, masks covering the bottom half of their faces, and rifles slung casually over their shoulders.
y stomach dropped. “Conrad. Who are these men?” I asked, my surprise leaking into my voice.
My
Conrad glanced at me, his expression softening as if he could sense the dread pooling in my veins. He offered a reassuring smile as he parked the car in front of the house. They’re bodyguards,” he said simply, as if that explanation should have been enough to put me at ease.
My eyes darted back to the men, who stood like statues as they watched our every move. “Bodyguards?” I repeated, the word tasting foreign on my tongue.
“Yes,” Conrad said firmly, cutting the engine. He turned to face me, his gaze earnest. “I swore to myself that t would never let what happened yesterday happen again. These men are here to ensure your safety, Abigail. That’s their only purpose.”
My unease must have shown on my face, because Conrad gave me a small smile. He reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face and tucking it gently behind my ear. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmured. “I handpicked every single one of them. They’re trustworthy. And more importantly, they’re yours
I blinked at him, confused. “Mine?”
He nodded, his smile tugging at the comers of his lips. “They report directly to you. Their mission is to protect you from all harm. You’re in charge here, Abigail.”
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, forcing my lips into what I hoped resembled a confident smile. “I’m not
Chapter 32 (2)
afraid,” I lied, my voice steadying as 1 willed myself to believe my own words. “I was just… surprised.”
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Conrad’s smile widened, clearly pleased by my response. He leaned back in his seat, gesturing toward the men.” Good. Because they’re here to stay.”
His words were meant to reassure me, but they did the opposite. By the time we stepped out of the car, the bodyguards had circled us. They moved in perfect unison, bowing to both Conrad and me as if we were royalty. I fought to keep my expression neutral, refusing to let my discomfort show.
Conrad raised his voice, addressing the men with the authority of a king speaking to his court. “This is my wife, Abigail Remington,” he announced, his arm slipping around my shoulders. “I’ve already spoken to you about her, and I trust you all understand the importance of your roles.
I kept my face calm, but inside, my stomach twisted even more.
Conrad continued, his tone firm. “She is your highest priority. If anything happens to her, you’ll answer to me, and you’ll be out of a job before you can blink. Do I make myself clear?”
The men responded together with deep voices. “Yes, sir.”
These people look even more frightening than the kidnappers. Either the definition of bodyguards has changed to “mercenaries,” or Conrad is just brushing me off. Remembering what I agreed to on the phone yesterday, I pretended to have no doubts and followed Conrad.
As the men moved away, Conrad turned to me, his smile inviting, “Welcome back,” he said softly, his arm tightening around my shoulders as he guided me toward the house. “To your rightful home.”
My home? I glanced back at the new guards as we walked up the stairs. Hah! It didn’t feel like home. It felt like a prison.
The grand double doors opened before us, and I stepped inside, the familiar scent of polished wood and fresh flowers washing over me. The house was just as I remembered it–luxurious, and suffocatingly perfect.
Conrad led me up the sweeping staircase, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. “You’ll feel better once you’ve had some rest,” he said, his voice gentle. “And after lunch, I’ll show you everything. All the proof you need,”
