CHAPTER 8

Hearing what Jerry just said, it was at that moment Abigail's memory brought back what happened the day she had fainted outside her building.

At first, it had been a blur, only fragments of memory—her body too weak to remember, her mind too foggy to even get hold of anything.

Now—She remembered everything.

The stranger who had stood over her.

The man who had taken her to the car.

The one who took her to the Marriage Registry. Her heart racing as the memory crystallized into clarity. She thought he actually took her to the hospital instead of the Marriage Registry, now she was wrong, she's actually married to him, and she did it on time.

And her husband was him, Jerry Brown.

The very same man standing beside her now.

And they had actually gotten married before she fainted.

At that moment Abigail's cheeks twitched slightly, her fingers curling against the hospital sheets as realization hit her fully.

Then a slow smile formed on her lips.

With a cold relaxing smile she leaned back against her pillow, exhaling sharply.

"Oh," she murmured, her voice light, teasing.

"It seems I'm still the owner after all."

Her voice was like a shot ringing out in the room.

At that moment Owen, Amelia, and Penelope flinched as though they were being slapped on the face.

All their world came crashing about them.

They couldn't believe everything they had planned.

Everything they had manipulated for years.

The constant manipulation, betrayal, tricks—All of them.

And now—It was finished.

Like that, in the blink of an her, everything was gone.

At that moment Owen's face darkened. His jaw clenched so tightly that it seemed about to snap.

Amelia was on the verge of screaming, but she couldn't.

Mrs. Penelope's face flushed with anger.

She had earned everything she had. To lose like this?

"No."

She would not stay there and be embarrassed by Abigail.

Without a word, she turned around and stormed out of the room angrily.

Her heels clicked sharply on the floor, each one dripping with barely suppressed anger.

She had to leave before she did something stupid.

Owen and Amelia still standing frozen, their bodies tensed in shock.

Then both of them decided to leave, they couldn't believe the humiliation they just got from Abigail, she made them looks like fools, not knowing she also had a backup plan.

Then without another words both of them turned around, and was about leaving.

But Abigail wasn't done yet.

She tilted her head to one side, her voice firm, but deadly.

"Wait."

Hearing Abigail words Owen and Amelia stopped, their backs to her.

"Don't attempt to leave," Abigail whispered, but there was a strength that couldn't be ignored behind the words.

Then she sat up a bit more upright, ignoring the ache in her body.

She wanted them to recall this moment.

She wanted them to know what they had in for, because she doesn't forgive anyone he tried to hurt her.

"You should wait for me," she continued.

"For my wrath."

Owen's fingers twitched reflexively.

Amelia caught her breath.

Abigail's eyes flashed.

"I'm coming for you, all of you" she declared, her voice growing icy.

"And you will pay—"

Her lips curled into a snarl.

"Not only for what you did to me… but for having the temerity to plot against my company my grandmother's legacy, you all will pay, just wait for me."

Hearing what Abigail just said, Owen and Amelia then left in silence, their shoulders heavy with defeat.

As none of them could even say a word.

For the first time in their lives—they had nothing to say, they had lost. Plainly.

**

Not long after they arrived at the house, stepping into a scene of chaos.

The living room was in ruins.

Shards of broken glass covered the floor. The expensive vases Penelope had once loved so dearly were now in pieces.

The cushions were ripped to shreds, the curtains ripped off, furniture where also overturned.

And in the middle of it all—Mrs. Penelope.

Breathing hard, her face twisted with rage.

Shaking with fury, her fingernails digging into palms.

She couldn't believe she'd spent millions—millions—on dirty orphanages and on those other tainted charity groups.

She'd bought them all, believing this would lock into place for her claiming the empire for herself, all the plans, the years wasted.

Just to received nothing.

"Nothing, not even a pen, but nothing!!"

At that moment she snarled in her lips.

Then—she threw her head back and laughed.

A hard, jarring, broken laugh.

Owen and Amelia flinched, they couldn't say anything

They had never heard her like this before.

Owen's head dropped. Amelia's fists clenched.

They were completely devastated.

They had plotted for years—years—to take Abigail down.

They had manipulated her, lied to her, embarrassed her, entangled her.

And still—at the very end—She prevails.

Even though she was imprisoned. Even though she almost died.

Even though she lost everything.

She still managed to acquire a husband. At the worst possible moment.

At that moment Owen clenched his teeth, his hands trembling.

What was she, a monster?

At that moment Amelia caught her breath, trying to collect herself.

She stood up to her mother, her voice shaking.

"We did everything, Mom," she begged. "We trapped her. We gave her no hope. We even got her drugged, but—"

"Keep quiet!"

Mrs. Penelope's rage overflowed.

Her sharp voice cut through the air like a whip.

Immediately Owen and Amelia froze simultaneously.

Penelope face was dark with anger.

"Get. Out"

Her tone was low and threatening, Neither of them moved.

Then she moved towards them, her presence choking.

"Both of you had one task, one simple task" she snarled.

"One god-damned simple task!"

Her fists clenched at the moment.

Her breathing was strained, her face reddening with fury.

"Why didn't you kill her?" she suddenly screamed.

Hearing Penelope word's Owen and Amelia were stock still.

"Why didn't you kill her?"

The room fell into a sickening silence.

Owen's heart pounded. Amelia froze.

She'd seen their mother rage before—but never like this.

And then—

The front door opened.

A couple of slow, measured steps came through the ruined living room.

At that moment Everyone turned their head.

A broad-shouldered, tall man entered the room.

Dark eyes. An unyielding, hard face.

Mrs. Penelope's first son.

Ramos.

Ramos came in nonchalantly, twirling a car key between his fingers.

A smug grin wrinkled his face as he declared victoriously—

"I just bought the lowest of my dream cars."

He chuckled, tossing his head as if it meant nothing.

"It's worth a million dollars, but hey," he grinned, "since the company is now ours, it's only a week before I have a complete set."

He flopped himself down on the nearest couch—or what was left of it—leaning back like a king waiting for his next treat.

Then, without even looking at his mother, he said —

"So, Mom," he stretched out, raising his arms, "how much am I getting this month?"

At that moment he finally rolled his head, only to look into Penelope's eyes.

Her face was unreadable, but there was something dark and bitter in her eyes.

She didn't answer immediately.

Instead, she took a deep sigh, rubbing her temples.

Then, her lips curved into a condescending smile.

"Why don't you go and ask Abigail's husband that?" she answered coldly.

Suddenly Ramos froze.

His fingers clamped down on the car key.

His entire body stiffened.

"What?" he answered, hardly in a whisper.

He blinked angrily, suddenly becoming conscious of the destruction around him.

The broken glass. The overturned furniture pieces. The clutter.

And then it hit him.

He stood up.

His chest heaved and fell with rapid gasps as he looked at his mother, his sister, and Owen.

"No… no… NO!" he suddenly exclaimed.

His hands shook as he ran them through his hair.

"This can't be happening!"

Then he took a step forward, his voice rising louder in desperation.

"All my plans—all our plans! They can't just go to waste!"

His head snapped to Owen and Amelia.

"We have to do something! I can't allow my plans to get wasted, like seriously what will I say to my friends." he roared.

At that moment his breathing started growing heavy, raspy.

His face reddened with rage.

His entire future had been built on the guarantee that he would inherit the wealth of the company.

And now, it was gone.

"We GOT to do something!" he cried once more, his voice shaking on the verge of breakdown.

But Mrs. Penelope?

She laughed scornfully.

She shook her head, the weight of reality shattering her bones.

She turned to Ramos, the defeat etched on her face.

"There's nothing left to do," she said, the sound empty in her voice.

Then her eyes fogged with regret.

"We lost."

The room was heavy with silence at that time.

Grief. Regret. Anger.

All of them stood, they couldn't even of anything to do.

Mrs. Penelope, Owen, and Amelia had spent years plotting, only to have everything snatched away from them in a moment of victory.

But Ramos, however, would not believe it.

His mind raged, his anger burning inside him.

Then—he opened his mouth.

"There's still a way, we still have a chance." Ramos spoke suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence.

All of them stared at him. Penelope raised an eyebrow.

Owen and Amelia exchanged a glance.

They had all given up—but Ramos?

He hadn't.

Then he breathed harshly, before continued speaking—this time with authority.

"According to the terms of the contract," he said with deliberation, his eyes glinting, "if Abigail's husband initiates divorce proceedings within the first five years of their marriage…"

He paused, Penelope's eyes narrowing.

Owen stiffened. Amelia edged forward.

"The documents will be void," Ramos continued, a self-satisfied grin spreading over his face.

"And the corporations will still proceed to the charity homes."

At that moment a tense silence was present.

It took a while for the realization to sink in.

But when it did—everyone's eyes widened.

Owen was the first to crack the silence.

"Wait…" he whispered, leaning forward. "Are you saying—"

Ramos grinned, showing teeth.

"We bribe him."

Mrs. Penelope's breath caught at this point.

Owen's fingers danced. Amelia's jaw fell.

"Yes, We bribe Abigail's husband to divorce her."