Chapter 57: Abigail?

Chapter 57: Abigail? Abigail stood frozen outside the driver’s room, her fingers tightening around the edges of the tray she carried. The scent of warm cinnamon rolls curled in the air, mixing with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, but she barely noticed it. Her heart pounded furiously and her entire body locked in place as she stared, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing. Jamal. Standing there. Why? Her wide eyes darted over him, her lips parting in shock as she took in his brown, damp curls that clung to his forehead, drops of water trailing down his bare shoulders, his toned chest. The faint scent of soap and something undeniably him drifted in the air between them. No. No, this wasn’t real. She was probably seeing things now because she had been thinking of him and had dreamt of him Her fingers trembled around the tray as she blinked rapidly. Once. Still him. She blinked again as if trying to clear her vision. But when she opened her eyes again and saw him still standing there, she stiffened. What was he doing here? Why was he in the driver’s quarters? She shook her head, hard, as if trying to rattle sense into herself. Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe— But then she noticed the way he was staring at her too. Wide-eyed. Frozen. The tension between them crackled like a live wire. Her thoughts raced wildly. She had thought she was seeing things, but no— this was real. Her heart pounded as a terrifying possibility crept into her mind. Jamal. Here. In this house. In Ryan’s house. Abigail’s thoughts spun wildly. Was he the Jamal Genevieve had been talking about earlier? Had she been wrong about him all along? Had their meetings not been coincidences? Had he been spying on her? Had it all been a lie? The encounter in Blue York, the moments, the quiet looks... had they been planned? Was he working for Genevieve and Ryan? Her heart twisted at the thought. Was this why he had disappeared until now? Was this the reason Ryan loved Josh so much? Perhaps he had deliberately sent Jamal to impregnate her? Her stomach twisted, and her grip tightened on the tray. If he was here, did that mean her plan was already falling apart before it had even begun? He knew she could speak. Had he reported it to Ryan already? Jamal’s brows pulled together in a deep frown. He could practically see the storm of emotions swirling in her eyes. Why was she looking at him like she was accusing him of something he didn’t do? "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low as he watched her. His voice jolted her back to reality. Before she could think, she thrust the tray into his hands. The sudden motion made the coffee slosh dangerously close to the edge of the cups, and Jamal instinctively grabbed it before it could tip over, his brows lifting in confusion. Jamal barely had time to steady the tray before she spun on her heel and walked away. "Wait—" he started, but Abigail was already walking away swiftly, her steps quick and purposeful, as if she couldn’t get away fast enough. His jaw tightened as he debated chasing after her, demanding an explanation, but then— He looked down at himself. Bare torso. Damp hair. Not exactly the state he wanted to be in for a confrontation, especially when he didn’t know if anyone was listening. He muttered a curse under his breath, his fingers tightening around the edge of the tray. His appetite was gone, replaced by the burning need for answers. Who was she? Why was she living in the same house as Genevieve. Jamal’s mind whirred as he carried the tray inside and set it down on the small desk. His jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his wet hair, eyes narrowing. She knew his name. She knew he wasn’t poor. She knew Stefan. Was she going to expose him and tell Genevieve the truth? Why had she been pretending to be mute? Was she part of something bigger? Now he wondered once again why she had approached him at the airport asking for his number. What was her name? His chest tightened as he realized just how little he actually knew about her. He had to find her. He needed to talk to her and make sure she wasn’t a threat to his mission here. But first he needed to know who she really was. He picked up his phone and dialed her line. It rang a couple of times but she didn’t respond. He decided to send a text. > Jamal: Who are you? Why are you here? We need to talk. After sending the text, Jamal turned toward the small closet, yanking out clean clothes. His hands moved quickly, as he dressed but his thoughts continued to churn as he waited to receive a response from her. He needed to approach this carefully. Rushing in without knowing her role in this house, without knowing why she was here, would be a mistake. He needed to know if he was going to have to readjust his plan. Jamal took a deep breath, forcing himself to think strategically. His stomach growled again, and he hissed impatiently as he picked up a cinnamon role and ate from it, and then he drank from the coffee. Just as he finished eating and rose to go find a domestic staff he could question so he could find her, a knock sounded. He stiffened. Another knock, firm but not impatient. Jamal exhaled and opened the door, half-expecting to see the mute girl again, but instead, he found Bob standing there. The older man’s eyes swept over him, taking in his dressed state with an approving nod. "Glad to see you’re up," Bob said. "Checked on you last night, but you were out cold." Jamal nodded,l. "Yeah. Long day." Jamal forced a small smile, still distracted. Bob glanced past him and spotted the tray on the desk. "You had breakfast already?" Jamal nodded, deciding that maybe Bob was the perfect person to ask. "Someone brought me coffee and cinnamon rolls earlier." Bob’s brows lifted in surprise. "Oh? Who?" Jamal hesitated for a split second before answering, "A mute lady." Bob’s brows lifted. "Oh?" A knowing smile tugged at his lips. "I see Abigail’s at it again. She has a habit of trying to befriend the new staff." Jamal’s heartbeat stuttered. Abigail. Her name was Abigail? Jamal forced himself to stay calm, nodding as if this was casual information and not something that had just sent his entire world spinning again. Abigail. He repeated the name in his mind, unable to understand what was going on. There was no way it could be a coincidence. He needed answers.