Chapter 61: Live Differently

Chapter 61: Live Differently Abigail stepped into her bedroom and shut the door behind her, her back pressed against the smooth wood as she exhaled softly. Thankfully she had been able to act normally around Ryan and have a peaceful breakfast with Josh, but her mind still spinning from seeing Jamal. Her gaze darted to the nightstand, where her phone lay exactly where she had left it earlier. A sliver of hesitation crawled up her spine, but she forced herself forward. She reached for the phone, her pulse hammering wildly as she unlocked the screen. The moment she saw the messages, her heart stopped. > Jamal: Who are you? Why are you here? We need to talk. > Jamal: You’re Abigail from five years ago, aren’t you? You better respond to my text else I’m going to let EVERYONE know you’re not mute! Her throat went dry. As though he had been staring at their chat and waiting for her to read his message, more messages followed. > Jamal: Why didn’t you tell me who you were? > Jamal: What happened to your face? > Jamal: Have you always been able to talk? Did you lie about being mute five years ago? Abigail’s breath hitched. A storm of emotions swirled within her—panic, uncertainty, and something dangerously close to hope. Perhaps she was right about him and he wasn’t working for Ryan or Genevieve to spy on her. She stared at the screen, her fingers tightening around the device. A part of her wanted to ignore him, to pretend none of this was happening. But another part knew better. Jamal wouldn’t stop. Not until he got the answers he wanted. And neither would she. She needed to know. To be sure. She wanted to believe that he was on her side or would be on her side. With a deep breath, she typed her response. > Abigail: Who are you? Why are you here pretending to be a driver? Is your name Jamal or Pete? The reply came almost immediately. > Jamal: You really are Abigail from five years ago, aren’t you? Why didn’t you tell me who you were? Abigail hesitated. How was she supposed to answer that? > Abigail: Because I didn’t think there was any reason to. > Jamal: Why do you look different? Did something happen to you? Her stomach twisted. She knew these questions were coming, but that didn’t make them any easier to answer. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, then slowly, she typed. > Abigail: I can’t answer your questions. A beat of silence. Then his response came. > Jamal: You promised me. You said if we ever met by chance again, you’d tell me everything. Abigail’s breath caught. Yes, she had said that. But she hadn’t expected it to be this way. This... she wasn’t sure what this was. This didn’t exactly feel like chance. > Abigail: Did you come here looking for Abigail? > Jamal: No. That’s not why I’m here. > Abigail: Then why are you here pretending to be a driver? > Jamal: I can’t tell you anything until you answer my questions. Abigail inhaled deeply. > Abigail: Then I can’t trust you either. Not until you answer my questions too. Another pause. The minutes stretched. Then— > Jamal: Why don’t we meet and have a proper conversation? Abigail’s heart lurched. She glanced at the door, paranoia prickling at her skin. There was no way she could risk it. > Abigail: No. I can’t risk it. > Jamal: Why? Who are you hiding from? Are you Mr Harris’s biological daughter? Was Genevieve the stepsister you spoke about? Abigail hesitated, then typed carefully. > Abigail: It’s complicated. Not something I can say over texts. But if you promise to keep my secret, I’ll keep yours. Maybe we can talk when we get a private moment away from prying eyes. > Jamal: Fine. But until then, you don’t get to ignore or avoid me. You can bring me dinner later in the day. Abigail blinked. > Abigail: What? > Jamal: We can talk over dinner in my room. She let out a breath, pressing her fingers to her temple. > Abigail: No, we can’t. You’re supposed to eat with the kitchen staff. I heard you’re going to be my driver too. Maybe we can wait until then to talk. > Jamal: No. I can’t wait that long. Why don’t you come up with a reason to leave the house. I’ll be there to drive you. Abigail hesitated. > Abigail: I can’t. The domestic staff runs my errands. I can only leave the house if Genevieve sends me on an errand. Not my personal errand. > Jamal: Then we will have to make her send you on an errand. > Abigail: How do you plan to do that? > Jamal: Don’t worry. Leave that to me. Also, you should change my name on your phone. > Abigail: Yeah. You’re right. I’ll do that now. Away from there, Stefan and Genevieve walked out of his suite, and he held the door open for her. "What about your driver? Did he come with you?" Stefan asked as they moved through the hallway. "Yes. He’s waiting in the car. Now that you mention it, I should inform him I’ll be spending longer than usual in here and ask him to park the car," she said, taking out her phone from her handbag. "Why not ask him to join us in the restaurant. Has he had breakfast yet?" Stefan asked, knowing that nothing they would serve Jamal as a driver would be good enough for him. "My driver? No. I don’t think so," Genevieve said, thinking about the possibility of him reporting back to her father. "Why not? Don’t tell me you’re one of those people that look down on your employees and domestic staff," he said, and she rolled her eyes as they stepped into the elevator. "How does not wanting him to intrude on my time with my friend equate looking down on him?" She asked, wondering what he would think of her if she told him her biological mother had been a maid. "He can’t just stay in the car all day doing nothing while we have fun. I don’t treat my drivers that way. If you won’t let him join us, about you let him go? That way we can be alone. I’ll drive while you direct me," he offered since he knew very well that Jamal didn’t know his way around the city. "It would be more fun that way too," he said, and Genevieve nodded, liking the idea of being alone with him without her driver in the picture. "Alright. I’ll ask him to bring us the key and leave," she said as she dialed his number. Jamal received the call on the second ring. "Pete, I changed my mind about you driving us around today. You can bring me the car key. Find your way to the Hotel’s restaurant," she ordered. "Alright, ma’am," Jamal said and then she hung up. As they stepped out of the elevator and continued down to the restaurant, Genevieve couldn’t help but notice the way Stefan kept a respectable distance between them. When they reached the restaurant, he pulled out a chair for her, and she met his gaze briefly before sliding into her seat, impressed by his gentlemanly actions. "What do you want to eat?" he asked, taking a seat across from her. "I will get it for you." Genevieve shook her head. "You don’t have to serve me. Let’s get our food together." They walked to the buffet stand, selecting their meals. Genevieve chose a mix of fresh fruit salad and oat with juice, while Stefan filled his plate with pastries and eggs, and coffee. Once they were seated again, Genevieve speared a slice of banana with her fork before turning her attention to Stefan. "Tell me about yourself," she said before raising the fork to her lips. Stefan smirked. "I was hoping you’d go first." She arched a brow. "You’re the billionaire whose private life is hidden away from the rest of the world. I’m just a lady who wants to know more about you." Stefan sipped his coffee. "What exactly do you want to know?" Genevieve tapped her nails against the table. "Do you have a lady in your life?" He let out a low chuckle. "Really? That’s your first question?" She shrugged. "I’d rather know now so I don’t unknowingly cross any boundaries." Stefan leaned back in his seat, studying her. "You wouldn’t cross any boundaries, regardless of whether I have a girlfriend or not," he assured her. Genevieve held his gaze, intrigued by his confidence. She picked up her fork, twirling it between her fingers. "Good to know," she murmured, before taking a bite of her fruit salad. "What about you? Do you have a man in your life?" Stefan asked, and she wrinkled her nose. "No. I’m staying away from men at the moment," she confessed. Stefan raised a brow, "You are? Why? Because of the sex tapes?" He asked, and when she grimaced, he raised his hand, "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up." "No. It’s fine. It’s not because of that. I just... let’s just say I’m trying to be different. Live differently," she said with a shrug. "I see," he said with a nod of approval.