“No, they must do the deed,” Moneypenny replied.
Abigail laughed coldly. “What, you want me to strip them naked and tie them up? Do you they’ll do it even if I did that? You’re asking the impossible, don’t you think?”
think
“You’re a doctor–you know the right drugs for the situation,” Moneypenny countered. “Just trick Master Diarmuid into taking it, and that would be water under the bridge. I’m sure you’ll do well, for your child’s sake. I’ll be waiting for the good news.”
Abigail froze, while Moneypenny returned to his car and drove off, leaving her standing and staring blankly for a long while.
The winds were ruffling her hair, and her feet were starting to get numb when she slowly hailed a cab back to the mansion.
Diarmuid was not home yet, so she headed to Light Group again.
He was in a video conference with an overseas branch manager, but called it off when his secretary announced Abigail’s arrival.
“Show her in.”
Abigail entered and greeted him. “Mr. Althoff.”
Diarmuid glowered at that title, but Abigail was not in the mood to fawn over him, let alone notice his expression.
“Are you free tonight?” she asked stiffly.
Diarmuid leaned against his chair and asked flatly, “Why?”
“I’ve booked a room at Hotel Langdon,” she said, her hands clenching and relaxing repeatedly before she could finally calm down and speak. “It’s the penthouse-
“Wait.” Diarmuid cut her short before she could finish. “What was that again?”
His aloofness was feigned–he could barely hold back his excitement.
How could he not be pleased with an invitation from Abigail, after all?
It was his ego that stopped him from expressing it.
“So, are you busy tonight?” Abigail asked.
“No,” he replied so quickly that it betrayed his mood.
Abigail wanted so much for him to say yes.
But she was even more afraid that he would.
What if harm came to Tommy if he did not play along?
She was at once conflicted and hurting.
“I will wait for you there. Finish up your work for now.”
She turned to leave, but Diarmuid followed her and said, “Let’s go together.”
Abigail hung her head.
Diarmuid held her hand then. “Are you getting shy? You’re the one who came on to me.”
He did not mind being a loser around her, and was willing to throw everything aside if she took the lead.
Grinning, he asked, “When did you become so open?”
She had never been so direct, but it did not matter if she was being chaste or passionate–he liked it either way.
His heart raced as long as it was her.
“Do you still have our marriage certification?” Abigail suddenly asked.
Diarmuid’s fingers tightened just then.
He had been reluctant to marry her before, and his grandfather had been in charge of everything.
As a matter of fact, he had never seen their marriage certificate.
“Why are you asking that out of the blue?”
Abigail smiled. “It’s nothing. I just remembered it for no reason.”
Once they left the building, they got in Diarmuid’s car, and he drove her to a diner. “Let’s eat first.”
“Okay,” Abigail replied flatly.
It was a gourmet diner, and Diarmuid had a private room since he was a VIP.
The dishes served were scrumptious and unique to this diner, but Abigail simply had no appetite.
“You’re not hungry?” Diarmuid asked.
“I’ve eaten. You can have my portion,” Abigail replied without moving her fork at all.
Diarmuid noticed then that she was not in a good mood, but did not dwell on it. “Are you tired? If it’s fine with you, I’ll have someone take over administration of Bernstein Holdings…”
“No,” Abigail said, forcing a smile. “I should be doing my best because my father entrusted it to me. I have to keep an eye on Ricky Bernstein too, or I’d worry.”
“I thought you didn’t like him,” Diarmuid said as he took a sip of soup.
Abigail pursed her lips. “My father asked me to take care of him, so I have to.”
Diarmuid did not argue–in spite of everything, Abigail still felt a bond with Lionel. Otherwise, she would not have helped him look after his mistress’s son, or take over management of his company.
She was a really sentimental person.
After dinner, Diarmuid started driving them home, and Abigail became flustered when she saw that it was the route back to the mansion.
“I told you I booked a room at the hotel, didn’t I?”
“Our home is better, no?” Diarmuid chuckled.
“No, we should go to the hotel,” she blurted.
Diarmuid turned toward her. “What…”
“Come on, we’re married. Shouldn’t we occasionally spice things up a little?” Abigail quickly said.
“You’re being weird.”
Diarmuid noticed that something was out of place despite her persistent fawning.
At first, Abigail’s enthusiasm had clouded his mind.
However, now that Diarmuid thought about it, she had been cold to him just this morning.
Suddenly, she was getting eager, even inviting him to a hotel.
It was clearly not logical.
“I just wanted to thank you. Is that so wrong?” Abigail asked.
“What?”
“Stan taught me a lot today and helped with many decisions,” she explained. “I know that he did his best only because of you, so I want to thank you.”
“That’s it?” Diarmuid’s voice turned quieter.
It was not because she loved him, and wanted to be with him–she just wanted to repay him for helping her?
“Hah!” He snorted coolly and darkly. “So you’re giving yourself to me in return?”
Those words hurt Abigail profoundly, but she repressed her pain and leaned against his arm, saying, “I love you.
Diarmuid jammed his foot on the brakes, stopping the car by the road.
His expression stiffened for seconds–her words certainly resounded in his mind!
“Do you know what you’re saying?” he asked quietly.
“I do,” Abigail replied, and it was the truth: she had no choice but to do this.
Lifting her eyes to meet his, she said, “I do this willingly.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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