At that moment the door to Abigail hospital room suddenly open, and walking in was Mrs. Penelope, her stepmother—followed closely by a well dressed nurse.
The moment Penelope gaze landed on Abigail, without wasting any more time she immediately walked forward, her arms outstretched, fake drops of tears coursing down her face.
"Oh, my lovely Abigail!" she sobbed, clinging tightly to Abigail.
Her grasp was strong, almost strangling.
Abigail sat, her body stiffened, watching the performance as though it were a practice drama play.
"I was so terrified!" Penelope cried, her body shaking with sobs.
"Good heavens, I thought you were badly hurt! They said you had an accident! I thought… I thought we had lost you!"
However Abigail's face didn't break out in a smile.
She'd fallen for that once. She'd seen that once.
Not now.
She could not understand that she would still have the guts to fake such nonsense in front of her, even her daughter has already exposed it all, does she believe that she has forgotten something, or doesn't know their plans.
"Enough," Abigail snapped, and her voice was clear and piercing.
Penelope stiffened in her arms.
Abigail shoved her aside rudely, meeting her stepmother's overflowing tears with a look of ice.
"Drop the act of you," she said bluntly.
"I know everything."
Hearing what Abigail just said, Penelope blinked, her mouth open as if she was going to protest.
But Abigail's glare dared her to try it.
The room was quiet.
Then—the nurse interrupted, dissipating the tension.
She handed Penelope a medical report.
"She's stable now," the nurse said politely. "She just needs some rest, but she'll be okay."
Immediately Penelope nodded, sniffing for more drama.
"Thank you so much, nurse, for taking care of her" she said with a soft sweet voice.
With that, the nurse left the room.
And the second the door clicked shut—
Penelope's entire demeanor changed.
The sorrow in her eyes? Gone completely gone.
The gentle motherly act? Erased.
She straightened her back, her face twisting into a smug smirk.
At that moment She let out a slow, victorious sigh, folding her arms as she tilted her head.
"Well, well, well," she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction she couldn't hide anymore.
"You're twenty-five now, Abigail," she continued, her eyes gleaming with triumph.
"Which means…"
Then her mouth curled into a biting smile.
"The companies are mine now."
With a raised cheek that was almost covering eyes, Penelope then walked towards the hospital window in an air of triumph write all over.
She had plotted and walked towards this moment for long.
And now she's finally getting it, after so much patience, and endurance.
"You still don't get it, do you, Abigail?" she questioned with her tone dripping with amusement.
She turned back to face Abigail, her smirk enlarging.
"I suppose you must know by now, We bought up all the charity enterprises that were to benefit from your grandmother's will," She revealed.
Her eyes twinkled with even more, victorious smile.
"Which means," she continued, drawing out the words, "all the funds that were to be given away now belong to us."
At that moment Abigail's face went dark at that point.
Then her fists clenched under the hospital blanket, her nails biting into her palms.
" I promise, you will pay for this," she stated, her tone firm but with rage in it.
Penelope raised an eyebrow, smiling.
"Oh?"
At that moment the hospital door opened before she could utter anything further.
Owen and Amelia entered.
Seeing both of them Abigail's eyes immediately narrowed. A shiver went down her spine as she saw them walking arm in arm, like some happy power drunk couple.
Amelia raised an eyebrow, turning her head.
"Good," she said.
"You remember everything. Now we won't have to go through the process again."
Abigail barely heard Amelia's words—her focus was on Owen.
Owen the man that she had loved.
The man that she trusted for years.
And now he stood beside her step-sister, looking at her like she didn't exist.
Couldn't take the shock a cruel laugh escaped Abigail's lips, she could not believe all this, if someone had informed her Owen would betray her in such a manner she would not believe, yet here she was seeing the betrayal face again.
She looked at Owen straight, her expression was flat.
"So go ahead, Owen," she replied coldly.
"Have they given you the five hundred million dollars already?"
Hearing Abigail words Owen's smile faltered. For a brief moment.
Abigail leaned forward, ignoring the ache in her body.
She tilted her head, her eyes sharp and piercing.
"You really think that business is like playing in a children's playground?" she teased.
Amelia rolled her eyes at that point, but Abigail did not stop.
"You think you can just take over my grandmother's business and all will be well for you?" she challenged them.
Then she let out a slow, derisive laugh.
"You're idiots," she said bluntly.
Owen's jaw tightened.
Abigail smiled.
"You'll drive the company into bankruptcy before you ever see a five hundred million dollar profit," she said to him, her voice heavy with conviction.
She leaned forward.
"Not to mention pay Owen off."
At that moment Owen smiled, his arrogance creeping into the room like a thick, choking fog.
"Do you know your problem Abigail, you always believe you're the only smart person in the world, that you know it all, yet you know nothing." he taunted, shaking his head in disappointment.
Then he moved ahead, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"You're acting like we didn't carefully plan this," he continued with a mockery look. "Like we don't exactly know how to do what we want."
Abigail's jaw locked, her fingernails digging into the skin of her palms.
She did not speak, but Owen did not need her to.
"Well I know you're curious, so I will just tell you this, We're selling your step-grandmother's museum," he announced.
Hearing what Owen just said Abigail's heart stopped at that moment.
Her breath hitched, her lip tightened immediately, what Owen just said was like a Punch to her face.
Her grandmother's museum.
The legacy she had spent years building.
It was more than a museum—it was a symbol of her history, or the country, a culture, and her grandmother's dedication to preserving something meaningful.
But Owen wasn't finished.
"The place is worth one billion dollars," he said confidently. "But we'll be selling it for five billion."
Then he grinned.
"And once that deal goes through," he continued, "I'll be paid."
Immediately Abigail felt sick.
Owen looked at her like he was expecting a reaction—anger, rage, begging—but she stayed silent.
At that moment Amelia walked forward, her arms crossed.
"And after that," she smirked, "we're selling over fifty percent of the company's shares to GRR."
Immediately Abigail's head snapped up again.
"GRR."
A rival company.
They had been competing with her grandmother's business for years, constantly looking for ways to take them down.
And now, her step-family was just handing them everything.
"Since you're still curious and smart, They'll be the ones running the company," Owen added.
He leaned down slightly, tilting his head as he watched Abigail's horrified expression.
"But don't worry," he said mockingly, "we'll still be making money from it."
At that moment Abigail felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.
She couldn't believe all that her grandmother had built. would be taken away.
Because she had waited. Because she had believed.
Because she had believed Owen, the bastard.
Her fingers trembled. Her eyes scalded with tears.
"You." she forced herself to get out.
She clamped her eyelids tight, letting the pain sweep in around her.
Then she took a quivering breath and spoke on a barely audible whisper, "Get out."
Her words were quiet but rough with unprocessed emotion.
"Leave my room, hospital room," she went on more assertively.
But they didn't move.
Owen and Amelia just stood there, grinning.
They weren't done with torturing her.
At that moment Seeing Abigail break down slowly, Owen's smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure.
He had won. He could see it—the powerlessness, the pain, the regret seeping into Abigail like daggers.
This was what he wanted. To see her break.
To see her disintegrate.
He laughed, shaking his head as he gazed down at her.
"This is what happens," he drawled and mocked, "when the smartest women in the world gets beaten by something she could've so easily prevented."
Then Abigail's fingers curled into fists beneath the blanket.
At that moment her gasps were shaky, her chest rising and falling as she battled to hold the tears back.
But Owen hadn't finished yet.
"You know what's worse than not knowing?"
he leaned in a bit, his smirk expanding.
"Thinking you know it all."
Those words cut like a dagger to her heart.
She knew he was attempting to undermine her, attempting to make her look stupid.
And it was working. She had been careful.
She had been patient.
She had trusted the wrong individual.
And now she was paying for it, and looks so stupid in the process.
Immediately Amelia laughed, sweeping her hair back over her shoulder as she walked to taunt Abigail further.
"You ought to have married some fellow when you still could've then, Abigail," she teased. "Now you're just a poor little girl crying over what's gone—"
At that moment the door suddenly opened. The room fell silent.
Everyone's gaze followed the door as a man came in.
A dashing gentleman.
Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his posture commanding attention.