Chapter 74
Chapter 74
Abigail flew into a rage. "Hand over the keys, Greg!" The fact that this house was accessible to someone other than herself was highly disturbing.
Greg gave her a look as he set the table, then said nonchalantly, "It's time for lunch."
She had a feeling that he was being evasive just to get on her nerves. "I said, hand me the keys," she ground out angrily.
He crossed his arms and eyed her for a while. He made no reply, and he showed not a trace of emotion. In fact, he was outright defying her.
Abigail did not back down, either. She steeled her shoulders and stared back at him, silently challenging him.
In the end, he caved first.
"So you won't eat unless I hand you the keys?" Greg asked. There was an indulgent edge to his resigned tone that even he did not notice.
At that moment, Abigail realized how pointless the argument was. It was like they had turned into two toddlers all of a sudden. When did I get so childish? Why do I always behave like a grade school kid whenever I hang around with Greg?
"You know what? Forget it. You can keep the keys." As she said this, she walked over to the dining table and surveyed the food. She was startled to see that all her favorite dishes were laid out.
"Allie told me these were your favorites, so I brought them over. How's your wound? Is it getting better?"
"It's fine; it won't be killing me anytime soon. You can leave now," she said coldly, chasing him out despite his kind gesture.
Greg's expression turned grim. He didn't understand why Abigail was treating him so passive- aggressively and why she was picking on him all the time. Wasn't she fine before? What's wrong with her? Is it that time of the month or something?
He was never one to stay and cajole a woman, so when he saw the stony look on her face, he grabbed his jacket and chucked it into the trash. When it landed in the bin with a thud, he had already turned and left.
Abigail frowned and stared at the jacket lying crumpled in the bin. There was a dejected gleam in her eyes, and for some reason, she didn't feel like eating anymore; the food before her had inexplicably lost its allure.
When the front door slammed shut, what followed was a wave of frustration that cascaded over her.
She was supposed to find this city familiar, seeing as she grew up here. But the only things she had left behind here were nightmares and twisted memories. There was nothing in this town to make her think of it fondly.
In particular, Greg was the person she had been most intimate with, but the fabric that tied them together was close to tatters at this point.
The air around seemed to grow thinner as each despondent thought crossed her mind. Frustration was welling up in her, and she was getting grumpy.
She began to wonder, Why should Emma and Sasha live worry-free when I'm wallowing in self-pity like this?
At the thought of that, she grabbed her jacket and pulled it on, then drove over to the Kain Residence.
Meanwhile, Philip was livid when he found out about Emma stealing five million from Abigail, and he nearly threw her out of the house. Sasha had been so shaken that it took her a while to placate him, but just as she was succeeding, Abigail showed up.
"What are you doing here? I don't have your money," Philip barked agitatedly when he saw Abigail, thinking that she was here to make him pay up.
However, Sasha didn't dare offend Abigail, and she quickly asked the maids to serve her tea.
"Abigail, you're here! I hope you understand that Emma didn't mean to offend you. She didn't think before she acted, so please don't hold it against her. We're family, after all, and we can settle this behind closed doors. There's no need to blow things out of proportion, right? Besides, you've yet to marry, and when you do, you're going to need us to help you win over your in-laws, no?"
One had to admit that Sasha had a very artistic way with words. She didn't offend Abigail in any way, but she certainly did not throw Emma under the bus, either. Unfortunately, Abigail was too clever to fall for this.
"I never said I would marry. What, do you honestly think there are men who are still interested in me after what happened to me five years ago?"
Philip grew sullen when he heard this. "What do you mean men won't be interested? If a man is in a room with you and the lights are turned down, he'd still feel like he's won the lottery. I'll have Sasha keep an eye out for eligible bachelors for you. We'll get you a man better than Jonathan. The both of you are a thing of the past now, so don't get in a disagreement with your sister over some guy you used to date."
Abigail nearly sputtered at this. Does he really think this all happened because of Jonathan? The nerve of this man. If I asked him to keep an eye out for prospective husbands for me, he'd probably pawn me off for money!
A cold smirk tugged on her lips as she said, "Whether I get married or not is none of your concern. I'm here today for one thing only: I want Emma to throw a press conference and publicly apologize to me for stealing my money, and I also want her to pay compensation. Without doing either of these, then she can forget about settling this out of court!"
He could hardly believe her audacity. "Are you out of your mind, Abigail?" Can't anyone subdue this crazy woman?
Having already known that they wouldn't agree to the terms, Abigail scoffed and drawled, "I leave the choice to you. I have plenty of ways to make Jonathan leave Emma if she doesn't do as I say, and I most certainly have the methods to have her locked up in a holding cell again. Just try me."
"You worthless thing!" Outraged, Philip hurled a glass in her direction, but it missed her and smashed against the wall behind her instead. When it shattered, the fragments were close to cutting her skin.
Her gaze darkened at once, and a strong hostility radiated from her. "Oh, were you trying to hurt me? Do you really believe I'm the same person I was five years ago?"
Philip's brows drew together when he heard this, and he consciously took a step back. Then, realizing that this made him look cowardly, he grew angry and bellowed, "What do you mean by that? Are you actually threatening to hit me?"
"Why don't you try throwing another glass at me, and we'll see how you end up?" she challenged angrily, with a dark fire burning in her eyes. If Philip moved against her now, it would only give her fair reason to beat him up like a punching bag, and she was looking forward to it.
Unfortunately, he was no fool. He was still wary of her after she nearly cut him with a scalpel the last time. As such, he spat furiously, "To hell with you! If you won't turn the other cheek and let this thing with Emma die down, then I won't spare you a shred of mercy!" With that, he sneered and retreated into the study.
Now that Sasha was left on her own to fend off Abigail, she couldn't help the exasperation that seized her. Philip had retreated, but she couldn't because Emma was her daughter.
"Abigail, let's be reasonable here. We're all family here, and there's no need for such animosity, is there? We've already wired the money back to you, anyway, so let's forget about the apology. If Emma were to admit to the crime, she would never be able to marry into the Frasers. Please spare her just this once," she pleaded as tears flowed down her cheeks, and she would have looked heartbreaking to anyone else.
Alas, Abigail wasn't just anyone else. She regarded Sasha's waterworks indifferently and snorted as she said, "Spare her? I don't see you asking her to be so considerate when she made trouble for me. Why should I condone her when she's been nothing but horrible to me?" After that, she rose and stormed out of the house.
She thought that coming by to provoke Sasha and the others would make her feel better, but after seeing the woman's melodramatic and pretentious face, she only felt worse.
Sasha, on the other hand, reached out to try and stop Abigail from leaving. However, she was worried that the latter might make good on her threat and strike her, so she chased after her instead as she cried, "Abigail, don't be like this! Emma's still your sister at the end of the day; there's no point in starting a war over this!"
But Abigail did not entertain Sasha's pleading as she slid into the car, then closed the door and sped off.
At some point, the rain started drizzling from the sky.
Abigail drove her car aimlessly down the road. The scenery here was familiar, but it didn't hold the same sentiments as the ones in her memories anymore.
She parked the car by the curb and rolled down a fraction of her window. The breeze and a misty rain drifted into the vehicle, and while it was chilly, it wasn't entirely objectionable.
Leaning into her seat, Abigail watched as the people on the streets hurried home. A self-effacing smile plastered itself across her face as she thought, Everyone seems to know where their home is, but what about me? Where's my home? She lost her only home in the city five years ago.
Those who hurt her showed neither remorse nor compassion, and instead demanded things of her like they weren't afraid she would fight back.
At that moment, Abigail felt like there was a heavy stone weighing down on her chest, crushing the air out of her lungs.
Just then, she heard honking nearby. She turned around to see who it was, only to be greeted by the sight of Jonathan.
When he saw her, he got out of the car with an umbrella and walked over to her.
"Abbie, what are you doing outside during a downpour? This is Uncle Greg's car, isn't it? If you're dropping it back at his place, I could come with you." Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.
"Why would I drop it back at his place?" Abigail knew what he was implying; he was asking her to stay away from Greg, and that got on her nerves for some reason. First Stanley, and now Jonathan. What in the world is wrong with them? Is Greg so perfect that I'm not good enough for him?
The more she thought about this, the more somber she looked.
Jonathan saw her expression turn grim, and he quickly explained, "It's not what you think. I'm just thinking that it might be inconvenient for you to borrow Uncle Greg's car. If you really need a car of your own, I could always get one for you."
"There's no need for that. I'm perfectly comfortable with this car." She had hoped to find some peace and quiet when she pulled up here, but it seemed as if fate was against that idea because Jonathan had shown up out of nowhere. Then again, he might also have been waiting for her outside the Kain Residence and followed her all the way here.
She frowned at the possibility of this. "Stop following me, or I'll call the police."
A wounded look flashed in Jonathan's eyes. "I was only worried about you, Abbie."
She might have felt sorry for him if these were old times, but now that she had seen through his pretenses, she only found him utterly annoying. "I don't need you to worry about me. Get out of the way!" She rolled up the window huffily after telling him off.
Jonathan almost couldn't withdraw his hand in time, and when he did, he took a wary step back from her car.
Then, much to his surprise, she rolled down the window again and bit out frostily, "Greg actually asked me to forgive Emma on your behalf. I'll have her released from the holding cell on one condition: she has to hold a press conference and apologize to me publicly, and if she doesn't, then don't bother showing up in front of me ever again. I know of your relationship with Greg, but keep testing my patience, and you might find yourself with a new aunt."
This made Jonathan frown. "Abbie, my uncle has a girlfriend, and you'll only get between them like a mistress if you carry on with this. It's immoral behavior!"
"Hah!" Abigail sputtered in amusement. She didn't think Jonathan had the right to call her a mistress, and it was hilarious that he suddenly decided to jump on the moral bandwagon. "What if I want to?"
She was trying to provoke him when she said this. She wanted to smack that pretentious look off his face. Just as he was about to say something in protest, she stepped on her gas pedal and pulled away from the curb.
A loud crash suddenly filled the air.
Because she had stepped on the gas pedal too hard and too quickly, she felt the car give a violent shake at first. The next thing she knew, she saw a figure flying out at an odd trajectory. Oh, crap! I just hit someone!