"You’re a liar. There is no boy in your life, Abigail Sinclair. Am I right?"
Abigail’s fingers tightened around her cup, and her body went rigid.
What is he doing here? Isn’t he supposed to be gone?
She closed her eyes briefly, schooling the expression on her face before turning around.
"What nonsense are you talking about, Georgie?" she asked him with a bright smile, "Of course there is."
George stepped closer, hands in his pockets, his head tilted slightly as he observed her, "Oh? Then where is he? Have Marissa and Rafael met him?"
Trying to control her frantic heartbeat, Abigail rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee to buy herself some time, "Because... maybe... It’s none of your business," She said the words softly.
He chuckled, "You’re a terrible liar, little dove."
Abigail felt her chest tightening as a lump formed in her throat. Why was he doing that?
Why couldn’t he leave her alone?
"Believe what you want, George," she said tiredly, "I don’t have to prove anything to you."
George exhaled sharply, maybe his patience was thinning. Before she could respond, he suddenly closed the distance between them.
Taking her cup from her hands, he almost threw it on the bench and pulled her up, "George!" she tried to protest.
Her breath hitched as his fingers cupped her face with an urgency that sent her pulse racing.
"There... there is something so beautiful between us. Why are you denying it, little dove?" his voice was low, full of something that smelled of danger... and darkness!
Abigail’s lips parted as she tried to control the trembling in her hands. She wanted to deny it. She needed to deny it.
But standing so close to this man, with his touch burning into her skin, it was impossible to think straight.
"George..." she whispered, trying to suppress the panic, trying to ignore his warm breath on her face.
What if someone saw them?
She pushed against his chest, her pulse a frantic beat, "Let go... please... someone... someone might..."
But George?
He didn’t move immediately. His gaze flickered over her face, reading every emotion she failed to hide.
And for a moment, she thought... God...she thought he might kiss her.
She was horrified to realize that she wanted that kiss. The sheer desire coursed through her veins.
He shot another glare at the man, "I’m sorry, sir. I ..." the kitchen help muttered.
"You..." Rafael pointed towards him, "You should have stopped and made her that hot chocolate, no matter if it spoils my cheesecake," his voice turned gentle at the end of it.
Marissa motioned her head, asking the poor man silently to leave. She bit back her smile at Rafael’s concern. She kept stroking his back, "I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry," she assured him gently.
Rafael took a long breath and closed his eyes, "Yes, please do that, strawberry," he turned to her and drew her to him, "Tell all the staff in both houses—no one is supposed to say no to my daughter," he swallowed hard when his voice wavered, "I don’t know how many times she must have been turned down in her life. She had suffered too long, and I want her sufferings to come to an end."
Marissa rested her cheek against her husband’s chest and closed her eyes. Rafael was right. Their daughter must have gone through a lot. Even as a sick child, Abi always showed resilience and covered all her milestones on time.
But now her feeble body and short height showed that she was kept malnourished. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ
Damn you, Valerie. If I knew you were so toxic, I would have killed you myself.
Why didn’t I think that you could come after my babies?
What a crappy mom I am!
Wiping her face, she tilted back her head to have a better look at her husband’s face, "I need to find her," her voice sounded raw to her own ears, "Let’s find her first__ and not hand her over to the police this time."
Rafael Sinclair was taken aback by the fire in those black eyes. He agreed with his wife.
"We’ll do it, love," he whispered, "I promise when we find her, she’ll wish for her death. I promise you, my love," he kissed his wife’s lips fiercely.
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