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Abby stepped outside and inhaled deeply, pulling her coat tighter to ward off the cold. “I cannot believe, I just used my body like that,” she said to herself, making her way to a yellow Porsche. Sliding into the passenger’s seat, she turned to her sister. “You could have driven something a little less conspicuous.”
Elaina raised a perfectly-arched blonde brow. “Don’t lecture me about my choice of car after you just screwed that greasy bastard to get proof of something I already told you.”
Abby gritted her teeth and faced forward. The Porsche hummed to life and took off. “Excuse me for not simply taking your word, Elaina. You’re not exactly a paragon of honesty. Neither is Mom. There’s no way was I going to go along with your ludicrous plot without confirmation.” She paused and then let out a breath. “There was no screwing, by the way.” Thank God she’d learned all she needed to before things went that far. Abby squirmed. Would she have really have had sex with a character like Henry Sullivan? The thought of going to those lengths made her shudder. “I haven’t stooped to your level,” she said with a smug expression—just to piss off her sister.
Elaina gave her a seething glare. “Yet. You’re about to stoop way lower than I ever have, baby sister.”
Her words hit Abby hard. So hard, in fact, that her breath hitched in her throat. She faced forward again and fell silent. Her sister wasn’t wrong.
***
The atmosphere was grim. The group of family, friends, mourners and well-wishers were all dressed in black. Heads were bowed as the metal coffin was lowered into the ground. It was then that it really hit her—that her father was gone. Pain ripped through her and brought fresh tears to her eyes. She choked on her sobs, barely managing to hold them back.
After days of crying, she was surprised that she’d had any tears left. She hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to her beloved father, and that was what hurt the most. A single tear trailed a hot path down her cheek, and she quickly dashed it away. Later…she decided, she would bawl her eyes out in private. She stole a glance to her right. Celeste, her mother, was stone-faced, and Abby nearly rolled her eyes. God forbid the woman should exhibit any human emotion. Elaina was beside Celeste, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Abby’s brows shot up. Elaina actually had feelings. A revelation indeed.
Abby looked to her left at her younger brother, Wyatt. He was her favorite person in the world—next to their father. Wyatt scowled at the hole their father’s coffin was being lowered into, and she wondered what was going through his mind. He and their father hadn’t always gotten along. Was he as overcome with grief as she was…or was he worried about what would become of Aldridge Enterprises?
Abby wished she could tell Wyatt not to worry, because she was about to fix everything. Soon, the company would be back in their hands, and Wyatt would eventually take his rightful place as their father’s successor…when he was ready. But she couldn’t tell him what she was planning. What would he think of her if he knew? Abby wouldn’t be able to stand Wyatt looking at her the same way he looked at their mother and sister. According to him, they were the two most manipulative and vindictive people ever to walk the earth. And there Abby was, about to become one of them. She would finally gain her mother’s love and approval—maybe—and, she would—probably—gain Elaina’s respect, but Wyatt would look at her with nothing but disappointment.
Most of all, she would lose her sense of self. She let out a breath. Damn you, Damian Coldwell. Her fingernails dug into her palms as his name echoed in her mind like a taunting whisper. She watched—with mounting resentment for the man she didn’t know—as the dirt was shoveled to fill her father’s grave. At that moment, her resolve strengthened. It was a final and decisive moment. She would have her revenge. She was going to do it. Abby was going to avenge her father and protect what remained of her family.
But first, she had to get through her father’s funeral.
“Hey, are you alright?”
Abby blinked, surprised to find that the crowd had already dispersed. How long had she zoned out for? She glanced at Wyatt and he winced. “Stupid question. Of course, you’re not alright. Where were you? You seemed to be in another world.”
“I just can’t believe he’s gone,” she said.
“Yeah ... Neither can I. It’s like just yesterday he and I were arguing about something or other. I think I’m going to miss him.”
“You think?”
Wyatt’s shoulders lifted. “I might be too busy worrying about you. I know how much you adored him.”
Abby let out a breath and squared her shoulders. She gave Wyatt a firm look and nearly burst into tears. He looked so much like their father—deep-red hair, the same build, the same facial features…
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she attempted a smile. “Who’s the older one here? Me or you? I’m the one who worries about you, Sprout, not the other way around.”
Wyatt’s upper lip curled. “You should have stopped calling me that after I hit puberty. It’s emasculating. If we weren’t at the old man’s funeral with all of these counterfeit mourners, I would lecture you on your dogged persistence in using that stupid nickname.”
Abby gasped. “Wyatt!” She glanced around to see if anyone had overheard her brother. He’d always been one to speak his mind, and he was never apologetic.
He lifted a brow, unbothered. “Oh, come on, you know they’re all here to butt their noses into our business. A prominent member of society upped and hung himself. It’s the hottest topic of gossip right now.” Wyatt let out a huff of breath, “but never mind that … We’ve got to go. We’ve got to go back to the house to entertain and feed that mass of leeches.”
“Wyatt ...”
“You’ve been calling my name in that reprimanding tone a lot today, Abbs. Give it up. I won’t stop making smart-ass comments.”
Her mouth twitched, but she forced down the smile. She was glad that she had decided to move back to Omaha, if only to be closer to her brother. He could always get a smile out of her. He moved toward the long line of cars parked in the cemetery. “Drive back with me so we can chat. I know you don’t want to get back into that car with Elaina. I can’t believe she showed up in that bright-ass-yellow Porsche. What an attention whore. Oops, do you think she heard me?” He grinned wickedly as he waltzed past Elaina.
“I heard you, you little shit,” Elaina said.
“At least try to act like civilized adults in public,” Celeste said. Her gray eyes landed on Abby. “Are you going to stand there all day? Let’s go. We have work to do.”
By work, she meant turning her daughter into a manipulative bitch like her. Abby huffed and trailed after them as she murmured under her breath, “welcome home, Abby.” She was beginning to think she should have stayed in New York. She caught up to Wyatt, who studied her with suspicion.
“What work would Mother dearest be talking about? She’s pretty much ignored our existence since our births. Now you two have work? Together?”
