Chapter 271
Sebastian hadn’t actually thought that far ahead.
“It’s fine. Even if they trace it back to me, it won’t matter,” he said, lifting his arm and draping it casually along the back of the sofa.
But almost instantly, the gesture struck him as too presumptuous. He considered pulling away.
Before he could, Abigail reached out and caught his hand. Then she leaned in slightly, resting against his arm. Her eyes remained on the television screen, but her voice dropped low. “When you went in, was it for something you actually did? Did you mean to get caught?”
“No,” Sebastian said. “Not on purpose.”
“Then why?” She hesitated, clearly reluctant to dig, but concern edged her voice nonetheless.
He turned his head, studying the furrow between her brows. Smiling faintly, he said, “You know how actors sometimes check themselves into prison to get into character? I did something similar. Just in my case, it wasn’t for a role. It was to recruit someone. For a project.”
“So you swear it’s all clean?” she asked, looking up at him, her gaze steady and searching.
“I swear.”
Only then did she seem to relax.
The next afternoon, Abigail had just finished a meeting with a client when Lila came in from the corridor, her expression unreadable.
“There’s a woman outside asking to see you. She says her last name is Prescott.”
Abigail didn’t need to guess. It was Blair.
“Let her in,” she said calmly. “Jeremiah, take Lila with you and check on the R&D team. See how far they’ve gotten with the code optimization.”
Jeremiah glanced at her. Something in her tone, her bearing, had shifted in recent days. She was beginning to carry herself like someone used to being at the helm.
“Will do,” he replied.
Once they left, a young woman entered the office, dressed in the sort of understated luxury that didn’t call attention to itself until you looked closely.
Her outfit wasn’t flashy, but the craftsmanship was unmistakable.
The LV bag, the designer coat with its clean lines, the glint of emerald rings—more than one—on manicured fingers. A gleaming watch peeked from beneath her sleeve, no doubt worth a small fortune.
Everything she wore whispered old money.
And she was beautiful. Of course she was.
Blair’s eyes immediately landed on Abigail, who sat poised behind her desk.
Abigail’s looks leaned sharp, cool and reserved, the kind that turned heads for its clarity rather than warmth. Even with faint burn scars still visible, there was no hiding her striking features.
Blair, on the other hand, had the delicate prettiness of someone born to be adored—large eyes, soft edges, carefully composed innocence.
After giving Abigail a slow, deliberate once-over, Blair finally spoke. “I thought the girl Seb picked would be something exceptional. Turns out, she’s just another poor girl who thinks she’s beaten the system.”
“Ms. Prescott,” Abigail replied evenly, “you’re mistaken. I own Gibson Group. In what world does that make me poor? Would you like something to drink? Fair warning, I don’t grind beans. At most, you’ll get instant coffee.”
“You don’t grind your own coffee?” Blair gave a sharp, amused laugh.
“No. Didn’t you do your research before showing up? I grew up in an orphanage. Grinding beans was never part of the curriculum,” Abigail said, entirely unbothered.
Blair made her way to the couch and sat, crossing her legs with languid grace. “So that’s what we’re doing now? Playing the underdog heroine from some melodramatic TV drama?”
Abigail, seeing no value in engaging, returned her attention to her laptop. “You came all this way just to say that?”
“You have any idea how fast the Prescott family could crush Gibson Group?” Blair asked, eyes narrowing as she watched Abigail’s indifferent expression.
Abigail barely looked up. “Not especially concerned.”
It was the truth. She had always been detached from this kind of posturing.
If Gibson Group collapsed, she’d simply go back to writing code. It made no real difference to her.
In fact, if someone were willing to acquire the company and take its debts with it, she’d welcome the relief. The stress of keeping it afloat had long become a burden.
“I’ve known Seb my whole life,” Blair said, her tone shifting. “He’s always had a thing for doing things the unconventional way. Right now, he’s obsessed with you. He’d probably give you the moon if you asked.
“But what happens when that fire burns out? When all that’s left is routine and resentment?”
“If that happens, we leave,” Abigail said simply. “What else would you suggest I do, stay and suffer?”
Blair looked her dead in the eye. “People like us don’t walk away from marriage that easily. You don’t get it, Abigail. A woman like you, if he stops loving you, he won’t just leave. He’ll take everything with him.
“And he’ll make sure you’re the one left bleeding. You have no idea how cruel a man can be when he stops caring.”
Abigail didn’t respond. Because as much as she hated to admit it, Blair had a point.
Men from families like theirs had been trained to survive in a world of blood and profit.
If one day they turned against you, they wouldn’t need to raise their voice. They’d destroy you with paperwork. And Sebastian wouldn’t even blink.
Sensing her silence, Blair leaned in a little, voice low and steady. “You and he don’t belong to the same world. And you never will.
Marriage isn’t just about love, Abigail. Sometimes, it’s about choosing the most strategic alliance. The one that keeps your world intact.”