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Four months later… Abigail rubbed her temples, her headache growing by leaps and bounds the closer the car drew to the Montenegro estate. Thankfully, the chauffer didn’t try to strike up any conversation. She had much to contemplate. Her sister Mikayla had done it again; disgraced the family with her ungodly behavior. It wasn’t enough she’d taken Abigail’s childhood boyfriend away, now she was bedding some god-forsaken rock star while engaged to Daniel Montenegro II. Daniel was a good man. They’d been very close when they were children and teens before her adoptive auntie Paulina sent her and Mikayla away to boarding school. The all-girls’ school hadn’t tolerated Mikayla’s undisciplined behavior and she was expulsed. She didn’t see her sister for many years afterward, even as Abigail’s romance with Daniel II flourished…or so she thought. Daniel sent her numerous letters at first, lovely poetry, CD’s with classical music, and even books for her to read. As time passed, however, the letters became more sporadic. She thought nothing of it. He was, after all, pursuing a doctorate in his early twenties and being groomed to take his deceased father’s place in North Star Records. He had the finest tutors and attended the best schools. He was a virtuoso with the piano and violin and performed at many charity functions for his mother, Paulina. Daniel was perfect. Abigail had been heartbroken when she heard he’d become engaged to her younger sister, Mikayla. She didn’t blame him though. Mikayla was gorgeous with her flowing red hair and bright green eyes. Always the life of the party, her sister was fun and bubbly, if not a tad wild a little too promiscuous. Even her name was exotic and alluring. The complete opposite to Abigail Brown. Gazing out the window, she contemplated her reflection in the tinted windows of the Audi. She’d pulled her honey blond locks into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, as usual, and, likewise, her face was bare of any make up. Her blue eyes, which she always thought were too big for her face blinked back at her through the lenses of her black rimmed glasses. Abigail wasn’t ugly. She just realistically accepted the fact that she was unremarkable. Passably pretty. Girl next door, and all that. Sighing, she looked down at her short-nailed, unpolished fingers clenched in her lap. She’d worn a two-piece grey suit that consisted of a tailored jacket and loose slacks. Sensible black pumps with low heels gleamed primly on her feet. The only piece of jewelry she wore was the white gold Chanel watch her auntie Paulina had given her. A bit too ostentatious for her tastes, but she was never one to disappoint anyone, and stoically wore the gaudy piece of jewelry whenever she visited the Montenegro estate. Paulina Montenegro wasn’t really her auntie. The woman and her mother, Marjorie Brown, had been good friends since childhood. When Abigail and Mikayla’s father had passed away many years ago, Paulina Montenegro had taken them into her home and treated them like family. Abigail was eternally grateful for her auntie sending her abroad to the best schools where she studied, art, music and philosophy. After Daniel and Mikayla announced their engagement, Abigail felt shamed into saying that she actually wanted to pursue a vocation as a nun and Paulina had promptly sent her to the best nunnery in Italy. Surprisingly, Abigail had found peace at the convent tucked away in the mountains, but her Mother Superior lovingly accused her of trying to run away from her problems by hiding at the convent and refused to allow her to take her final vows as a nun. Abigail was prepared to prove her Mother Superior wrong, but the call from her mother, hysterical over the situation with Mikayla, Daniel II, and the rock star had her boarding the first of a series of planes to get her from Italy to the west coast of the United States. Her mother begged her to talk sense into her younger sister, before Paulina found out and tossed them all out of the mansion. Marjorie hadn’t a penny to her name during all these years. Aunt Paulina had given them everything. They would indeed be homeless. Her mother would be exposed to the ridicule of the society she ran in now, something that was obviously very important to her. Perhaps Mother Superior was right. It was time Abigail came back home and perhaps started working, putting to use her many degrees in art, music, literature and philosophy. She could provide for her mother and her sister. Her family would just have to adapt at living modestly. Closing her eyes, she did her best to convince herself that her spoiled sister and mother would accept that fate graceful and gratefully. Deep inside, she knew they’d be outraged and mortified, but there was nothing else she could do. The car finally passed the immense gates to the Montenegro estate. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her pants before stepping out of the rear of the car when the chauffer opened the door for her. “Thank you, Edvard,” she said with a smile. The young pimple-faced chauffer nodded and stepped back to retrieve her luggage. About to tell him she could manage her small case by herself, she turned when she heard her mother call out to her. “Oh, thank-god you’re here!” Marjorie had aged much since last Abigail saw her mother. Her short blond hair was stylishly cut into a sleek bob that accentuated her sharp chin. Mother wore a silky cream-colored blouse, a pair of pale green palazzos, and gold ballerina flats. The modest string of pearls caught on the buttons of Abigail’s. jacket when she pulled away. Lines bracketed Marjorie’s mouth and eyes, as if all her mother did was frown and worry. “How are you mother?” Abigail said politely. She was about to tell her mother how much she missed her, but was interrupted by her mother’s impatient, “Why did it take you so long to get here? I called you two days ago.” Abigail resisted the urge to curl her shoulders in dejection. “Mother, I was in Italy. I took the first flight I could find—“ bursa escort “Oh, no matter,” her mother shook her head dismissively, her lips pressing into an angry line. “You got here just in time. Daniel is out of the country dealing with business and Mikayla is getting ready to go to a party at that—“ Marjorie’s face twisted into a moue of distaste, “that long-haired devil spawn’s hovel.” All color drained from her mother’s face and for a panicked moment, she thought the woman would swoon. “Mother!” Gripping her mother’s frail arms, Abigail steered her farther along the circular driveway lest the employees overhear their embarrassing conversation. “Mother, I’ve never seen you so distraught. It’s probably another one of Mikayla’s passing—“ “Oh, Abby, if only I could tell you the extent of the nightmare.” “It can’t be as bad—“ “But it is,” her mother snapped facing Abigail with frenzied eyes. “It the revenge of the deceased Daniel Montenegro. He’s sent his spawn here to torment us!” “Mother, please calm down. What are you saying?” “That man, Gabriel…he’s the long lost son of Paulina’s sister, Rosalina.” “Who?” Abigail had never heard of her. All these years she’d thought Paulina an only child. Orphaned when she was young. Marjorie shook her head and crossed herself. “God forgive me. The deceased was engaged to be married to Rosalina, but Paulina wanted him. I’d never seen her lust so after any man. She’d cry herself to sleep every night and was growing sick. She was my friend, more of a sister than Rosalina ever was to her, and I had to help her.” Abigail stared hard at her ranting mother, feeling confused. “What are you talking about?” Her mother gripping her arms brutally tight, making her wince. The older woman leaned close, her blue eyes showing whites. “We got them drunk. Rosalina was going to give herself to Daniel for the first time after their engagement party. He was madly in love with her and the wedding was to take place the beginning of June, but we got them drunk.” Marjorie almost crumpled and it was Abigail who had to hold her up now. “Mother, please compose yourself and explain what your trying to tell me. Daniel’s father wasn’t to marry aunt Paulina?” “No. He was in love with Rosalina, her younger sister. They threw a party to celebrate their formal engagement. It was a whirlwind romance and they were the talk of all society. That night, Paulina kept giving Rosalina cup after cup of champagne until the poor girl could barely stand. We managed to pry Daniel away from her to help her up into Paulina’s bedroom. Later that night, I went to Daniel and told him Rosalina had sent me to tell him she was waiting for him in her room.” Abigail gasped, realizing what her mother was saying at last. “It was Paulina waiting for him. They were sisters and were the same height, weight…they even had the same voice if Paulina pitched hers to speak softly. Daniel had too much to drink, he never turned on the light…I had to help because he passed out on her.” Marjorie shook her head. Abigail was glad because she really didn’t want to hear about what that help entailed. Cupping her throat in panic, Abigail asked, “Daniel is the product of that…that night?” Marjorie scowled at her. “No. Paulina never conceived that night. Daniel never touched her. She faked he had seduced and taken advantage of her and that she was pregnant. A few months later after he’d married her we had to devise a convincing way for her to lose her baby because fucking every employee in the household was not resulting in her getting with child.” Abigail stared horrified at her mother. “That’s awful, mother. How could you stoop to such—“ “Listen here, young lady,” her mother hissed, “if Paulina hadn’t married that rich son-of-a-bitch you wouldn’t have studied abroad nor had the comfortable lifestyle we’ve all been enjoying thanks to Paulina’s generosity.” Abigail abstained from voicing her outraged opinion. She could care less about luxury, especially when it stemmed from such heinous measures of depravity. “Anyway, she managed to separate Rosalina and Daniel, but not for long. That slut, Rosalina had her wicked way with him after all, and got herself pregnant with Gabriel.” Abigail raised her brow at her mother calling the younger sister a slut when it clearly had been Paulina who’d sinned first by stealing her sister’s betrothed. “When Paulina found out about the birth of her husband’s bastard son, she demanded he give her a child of her own. The man never touched her. They slept in separate rooms and then even separate houses. Paulina threatened to kill herself and this time I actually thought she’d go through with it until he conceded going to a clinic with her and just donating his sperm. Paulina had another woman carry the child for her and nine months later Daniel was born.” Abigail closed her eyes in horror. What her mother had just told her was…outrageous. “Does Daniel know about all this?” “Don’t be stupid. Of course he has no idea.” “Well clearly none of this was his fault, but he should know he has an older brother. It’s family.” “Bite your tongue!” her mother admonished. “Have you even seen this man? Of course you haven’t. He’s a devil worshiping heathen, and your aunt Paulina will have none of her fortune squandered away on whores and drugs by this man. He’d drag the prestigious family name through the mud by the time he was through. Is that what you want for your precious Daniel?” Abigail shook her head, swallowing hard. Dear sweet Daniel did not deserve any of this. “I don’t know if that man has any idea who he is, but he must be kept away from the Montenegro estate. Paulina would have a fit if she knew he was still around threatening her position.” “How did Mikayla meet him? Did you tell her any of this?” Marjorie’s eyes widened. “No. She must never know. You know how she gets. She might tell the press in one of her tantrums. Paulina would toss us out on our ear from the embarrassment. Where would I go, Abigail? bursa escort bayan We would be homeless. “ Marjorie covered her face, distraught. “I would be homeless and penniless.” Abigail gathered her mother close and kissed her head. It had been so long since she’d kissed her mother and held her. “Mama, please. Don’t cry. I can get a job and rent a little place out near the coast. We can be happy on our own.” Marjorie pushed out of her arms and scowled at her daughter. “A job? Rent some little hovel? Are you mad? Look around you,” her mother said walking in a small circle, her arms thrown out dramatically. “You expect me to leave all this for some shitty little apartment you want to rent?” she laughed humorlessly. “Live off your paltry paycheck. You’ve never worked a day in your life. Have you any idea what minimum wage is?” “I have various degrees—“ “Worthless!” her mother spat, surprising her. “You were being groomed to be Daniel II’s wife. Had I known giving that little twat some good pussy would be enough, I’d have sent you to Vegas instead to learn to be a stripper like your sister.” “Mother!” Abigail gasped, feeling her face flame at the vulgar way her dear sweet mother had just expressed herself…and then she wondered about Mikayla. Had her little sister become a stripper? Why had no one told her? Her headache began to pound harder, making her nauseas. “Mikayla is getting ready as we speak to go to a party at that devil spawn’s house. You must stop her, or if not, talk to that damned man. Make him see reason. She can’t mean anything to the likes of him anyway.” Abigail shook her head. “Why would you say that? How can you be so sure?” Marjorie’s lips twisted into a sardonic grin. “He’s nothing but a drugged up, alcoholic rock star. His kind just fuck any willing female. They rarely tie themselves to any one.” Abigail winced again at the expletive. She’d never heard her mother express herself in such a common manner. It was disturbing. She felt as if she really didn’t know the woman standing before her. A complete stranger. Her mother was pulling her now toward the house. “We need to hurry. She doesn’t know you’re here.” It had been at least five years since she’d been here, the sprawling estate where she’d been raised since she could barely walk. She’d always been afraid of getting lost within the walls of the castle-like mansion. It was said that as one grew, your childhood home shrunk and seemed less foreboding. It was not so with the Montenegro mansion. She was reminded of a movie Mikayla made her watch of a haunted house that grew all on its own. Abigail always kept to the immediate area of her rooms and dining area. She was never one to wander off. Her exceptions were the library where she and Daniel II spent hours quietly reading next to each other. She thought of poor Daniel and wondered how he’d react to knowing Mikayla was cheating on him. He’d be heartbroken. Although he’d broken Abigail’s heart, she didn’t want to see him suffer. He’d been quite contrite and apologetic when he personally called her and explained how he’d become smitten with Mikayla. Told her he’d understand if she hated him, but that he loved her enough to want to do the right thing and be upfront and honest with Abigail. Heart plummeting to her feet, Abigail had thanked him for his honesty and then lied telling him that she was a bit relieved because she really wanted to be a nun. He seemed so relieved afterwards, she hadn’t minded the guilt at having to lie to him. He deserved to be happy, not ruin his and Mikayla’s happy moment with regretful thoughts about poor dejected, wretched Abigail. As they entered the estate foyer, they were met by auntie Paulina. The woman, although well into her late fifties, was regal. Tall and willowy, her blond hair was swept up in an elegant twist at the back of her head and she wore a champagne-colored. Silk, two-piece pants set that looked like it cost a fortune. Her glossy beige Louboutin’s barley made a sound on the pristine stone floors as she glided toward them in the foyer. Dark, almost black eyes pinned Abigail to the spot, and her pale painted lips twitched into a tiny smile of welcome. Clutching Abigail’s hands, she leaned forward and kissed the air to either side of Abigail’s cheeks. “My child. What a surprise to see you here.” Those dark eyes honed in on Abigail, as if trying to see into her soul. It made Abigail almost want to cringe under its intensity, and she immediately understood her auntie Paulina was wondering if she was going to make a scandal about being jilted by her son after all. “I’ve been gone for so long. I just got a little homesick,” Abigail replied sweetly. Her aunt’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. Then again, when did it ever. “Well, it pleases me to know that my home feels like your home to you. It’s all I ever wanted for you and your mother to feel. Like you’re home.” Abigail gulped. Her steely meaning couldn’t have been clearer. Next to her, her mother giggled and clasped Abigail’s arm. “Abby is really excited to hear Mikayla’s plans on the wedding.” For the first time, Abigail saw her aunt Paulina throw her head back and laugh. Genuinely laugh. “Really? Well, Abigail is more of a saint than I thought.” She fluttered her hands, glittering diamonds on each finger as she turned away and headed toward the study. “Be off with your talks of weddings. Just remember I hired the best wedding coordinator to organize this whole thing. It is after all my only son. This event must be done tastefully to say the least. We have a reputation to keep.” With that, she disappeared around the bend of the corridor toward the study. *** Mikayla’s room was a mess despite the servants’ best efforts to keep it tidy. Loud music blared from her surround sound system, making Abigail’s already throbbing headache bloom to nightmarish levels. Abigail was practically shoved into the enormous suite of rooms by her mother and then abandoned. Just like Abigail’s suite a few escort bursa doors down the corridor, Mikayla’s opened to a large sitting room first. There was a balcony overlooking the side of the estate and the gardens below. The back of the estate had the best views, but those rooms were reserved for auntie Paulina, Daniel II and any important guest they might have come for a visit. Still, the scent of the pacific ocean blew in through the wide balcony doors, making the gauzy white curtains dance lazily in the salty breeze. The sun was setting, making the room glow in golden light. Her feet sank into plush, stark-white carpet as she made her way toward the bedroom. There were more clothes and shoes strewn everywhere here as well. Right over the fireplace was the source of the loud music. The ninety-inch flat screen projected, in all their sweaty glory, a band of long-haired males belting out a seductive hard driving tune that had Abigail stopping in her tracks to gape. The guitarist’s black t-shirt clung to his honed body as his fingers flew deftly over the strings of his instrument. Though she did not care for the loud, pulsing music, she did realize it took talent and many years of practice to be able to play with the dexterity and precision the young musician displayed. Flashes of a man, exquisitely muscled with dark tawny skin, and a mane of jet-black hair, caught her interest. He had wings inked on his sculpted back. Priding herself for having an eye for true masterpieces, Abigail had to admit he had the body worthy of any sculptor immortalizing in stone or perhaps a painter upon his canvas. The man began to sing, his deep voice captivating her, until that hauntingly deep baritone rose and became guttural. Savage, wild, riveting…that was what this man was. Arms being thrown around her, startled a little scream from Abigail. “Biatch! What are you doing in town?” Mikayla squealed exuberantly as she spun poor Abigail around in joy. Abby’s glasses flew in one direction and the pins of her hair in another. After Abigail’s shoes finally fell off, Mikayla dropped her dizzy sister and plopped herself on her king-sized bed. Abigail had to grip the edges of the mantle to steady herself. Over her head, the lead singer of the rock band caressed his chest suggestively. Abigail moaned and looked away. Mikayla watched her like a predatory animal, her red hair wild around her shoulders as she lounged in panties and bra. Abigail felt herself flush. She was used to seeing her sister parade around in her under things, but the under things she wore now were barely tiny little scraps of satin and lace. Oh my. “So what brings you out of your convent and back into the land of sin?” Mikayla grinned evilly. “Mother begged me to come and talk to you…” Mikayla groaned and flopped back on the bed with a long whine. “Noooo—please. No more long sermons about Gabriel Raven. I like him and I’ll toss him aside when I get tired of him…promise,” she said on a long, tired, drawn-out breath. “I need to sow my oats before settling down and growing into an old married hag. Besides, Daniel is no fun. He’s so stuffy, he won’t even let me suck his cock for cripes sake!” “Mikayla!” Abigail screeched in indignation. Her cheeks grew hot and she fanned herself. Her twenty-six-year-old baby sister laughed loudly, rolling around on the bad and kicking her feet. “Are you fucking kidding me, Abby? Please don’t tell me you’ve never sucked a dick before! You’re frigging twenty-eight-years-old!” “Mikayla, please! That’s so gross and vulgar.” Mikayla popped up off the bed and gripped Abigail again, spinning her around so that she faced the flat screen. “There’s nothing gross or vulgar about it, Abs. It’s empowering. Look at him—“ Abigail did. The lead singer had his head thrown back, his hips grinding slowly as he sang, voice full of passion. “Take it…take it…take all of me…all of my love,” he crooned making Abigail’s hair stand on end. She barely repressed the urge to shudder and shook her head squeezing her eyes tight. “You know how cool it is to drive them crazy, know you’ve got them riding the edge of lust and pleasure.” Abigail shook out of her sister’s hold and faced her angrily. “But what of Daniel? He doesn’t deserve this, Mikayla.” Mikayla’s eyes grew cold and aloof as she studied her perfect French manicure. “Daniel is gone on business, doing Daniel things. It isn’t as if I’m going to dump his ass.” She winced and looked up at Abigail with a sheepish grin. “Oops. Sorry about that. You’re not mad, are you? I mean you wanted to be a nun, you know. So it was all for the best.” Abigail swallowed her hurt and shook her head. “Mikayla, please. You should remain pure for your—“ “Oh-my-god, woman! What century were you born? Fuck, you seriously need to get laid before you get your habit or whatever the hell it is you guys do. Are you going to shave your head? I’ve heard nuns do that.” Mikayla wrinkled her nose and fluffed her own thick waist-length tresses. Abigail sputtered. “N-no. Stop trying to change the subject, Mikayla.” Her sister’s green eyes bulged and her teeth flashed in a molar to molar grin. “Oh-my-god! What a great idea! I’ll take you to Gabe’s bash and we’ll get you laid. Nothing too wild, since this is obviously your first time…is it?” Abigail could barely contain the flap of her jaw as she struggled to keep up with her sister. “Of course! No—I’m not having sex. Mikayla—“ “Nonsense,” Mikayla exclaimed running over to her private bar and retrieving a glass of amber liquid. “Here. Drink this. Liquid courage. Jack will loosen you up. You won’t feel a thing!” “No! Mikayla stop,” Abigail protested as her sister tried to force her to drink whatever Jack was. It smelled awful. “I don’t drink alcohol.” “Great, this can be your first too. Yippee! This is so much fun, Abby. I’ll make a woman out of you yet.” To Abigail’s dismay, the smelly drink sloshed all over her, ruining her suit. “Mikayla!” He sister just laughed and dumped the rest of the drink right over Abigail’s head. She danced away, laughing. “You better hit the shower and get dressed quick. I’m going to do my hair and makeup. Angelo is coming to pick us up.” “Wait—what? Who is Angelo?” Abigail barely restrained herself from wailing in misery.

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