Chapter 154: Abigail

Chapter 154: 154: Abigail

Nova offered no telepathic reply. Her brilliant blue eyes remained fixed on Adam, waiting for him to break under the pressure.

"What... what is your price, then?" Adam whispered, his voice trembling.

Nova smiled gracefully. She reached out, lifting a porcelain cup of steaming tea from the saucer, and took a slow, deliberate sip. She closed her eyes for a brief second, savoring the delicate floral notes.

"What do I want?" she chuckled softly, setting the teacup back down with a faint click. "You will naturally discover my true intentions in due time. For now... I formally accept your terms. I will personally oversee his system upgrade, and I will weave the necessary digital veils to wipe his operational trail completely."

Her dark, predatory smile widened, casting a chill over the sunlit table.

"You are definitely up to no good," Freeman commented, his shadowy form rippling with dry amusement.

?Nova turned her gaze toward the apparition and flashed a brilliant smile. "Congratulations. You guessed correctly," she replied smoothly.

?Adam let out a soft, resigned sigh. "I agree to everything you have requested. Just please..."

?"I will reach out to you when the time is right. It is getting late, and my husband is waiting for me," Nova declared, rising gracefully from her seat and slinging her school bag over her shoulder.

?"Should... should we exchange contact details so you can reach me whenever you are ready?" Adam asked urgently, half-rising from his chair.

?Nova shook her head gently. "There is no need. You will know when I require your assistance," she said. Without another word, she turned her back on them, sweeping out of the café and making her way toward the street.

?Adam watched her go, exhaling a long, steady breath of relief. "At least she agreed," he murmured, a hopeful smile touching his lips.

?"Do not let your guard down too quickly, Adam. That female demon’s mind is completely unpredictable, highly calculating, and deeply Machiavellian," Freeman warned.

?Adam smiled softly. "I believe she will honor her word. She will call us."

?"Very well. I am going to rest for now," Freeman muttered, fading into thin air after receiving a silent nod from Adam.

?Out on the sunlit pavement, Nova approached a sleek, luxurious sedan parked curbside. She stared blankly at the vehicle, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her lips.

?"I thought I told you to wait for me at home, Mr. Alan," she called out, folding her arms across her chest as her gaze locked onto the heavily tinted window.

?The glass lowered smoothly, revealing Alan flashing a thoroughly sheepish grin. "Hi... Snow. What an absolute coincidence," he offered weakly.

?Nova smirked. "A coincidence? You tailed me all the way here," she stated, her smile widening.

?Alan scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I... I was just worried about you, that is all. Please do not be angry, Snow."

?"I am not angry," Nova replied softly. She pulled the rear door open and slid into the leather interior. "Since you are already here, Let us go home."

?Alan immediately pulled out his phone, rapidly tapping out a message to their driver before slipping the device back into his pocket. He hopped out of the front passenger seat, slipping swiftly into the back beside her.

?"I called our driver; he is on his way back. I just wanted to be with you, Snow," Alan said, wrapping his arms around her arm immediately and resting his head gently against her shoulder with a serene smile.

?Nova chuckled in amusement. "Look at how hopelessly clingy you are," she teased, gently patting his hair.

?Suddenly, her phone vibrated sharply against her thigh.

?Pulling the device from her bag, she glanced at the screen. It was an incoming text message from an unknown, untraceable number:

"?Meet me at Sunny Restaurant tomorrow by noon. Come alone, it’s about Alan."

?Nova’s brows knitted together in mild confusion, her eyes narrowing as she prepared to trace the metadata before the sender disabled the channel. But before she could act, Alan pressed a warm kiss to her cheek, instantly hijacking her attention.

?"You are entirely too distracted," he murmured playfully.

?Nova laughed. "How can I not be distracted when I have such a breathtakingly handsome and clingy husband clinging to my side?" she countered smoothly.

?Alan’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink. He leaned in, pressing his lips firmly against hers. "What would you like for dinner? I will cook whatever you desire the moment we get back."

?"Anything you make is fine," Nova replied, sliding her phone back into her bag with her free hand. "Though I am rather exhausted... I think I will take a short nap."

?Alan immediately sat up straighter, offering his thigh as a makeshift pillow. "Rest here, Snow."

?Nova smiled warmly, laying her head across his lap. She closed her eyes, letting the heavy, comforting embrace of sleep take over.

?The Private Hospital.

?Inside the sterile, dimly lit VIP medical suite, Abigail lay completely paralyzed and trapped within the confines of her hospital bed. The mattress and crisp white sheets were littered with discarded medical wrappers, soiled linens, and intimate debris—testament to the sordid reality of her captivity.

?A thick, suffocating stench of stale bodily fluids entirely overpowered the clinical scent of antiseptics. The room was a monument to degradation; George had clearly just finished using several other women for his own depraved amusement, abandoning her broken form in the filth.

?Suddenly, the heavy door clicked open.

?Abigail’s breath hitched. Heavy, measured footsteps echoed across the floor—footsteps that did not belong to George, nor to any of the wretched women he regularly brought around.

"?So this is the infamous Abigail Brown," a strange, deep man’s voice resonated through the quiet room.

?Panic surged through her chest. "Who... who are these people?" she thought frantically, willing her paralyzed limbs to move, screaming internally as absolute helplessness bound her tongue.

?Standing beside her bedside were three middle-aged men dressed in immaculate white lab coats. The man standing in the center adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, clutching a thick medical file containing her exact physiological history as he gazed down with detached clinical interest at her wretched state.

?"So severely traumatized... it is a miracle biological functions are still sustaining her," the central doctor observed coldly.

?"Indeed," the doctor on his left agreed, leaning in closer. "Given the extent of her systemic shutdown, is it even possible to—"

?The lead physician raised a hand, cutting him off with a soft hum. He adjusted his glasses once more. "Abigail Brown. You were transferred to this facility months ago under a compromised guardianship. You have been subjected to horrific neglect. We represent the senior board of the R-T Corporation. We reviewed your clinical profile, recognized the profound injustice of your condition, and elected to intervene. What are your thoughts?"

?Abigail forced her jaw to move, fighting against the dead weight of her vocal cords. For long, agonizing seconds, nothing emerged except ragged breaths. She pushed harder, desperate for a voice until a raspy, blood-flecked whisper finally tore from her throat.

?"Wh... what... do... you... want... from... me?" she wheezed, every single syllable sending white-hot agony shooting down her spine, threatening to sever the fragile thread of her life.

?The central doctor offered a thin, reassuring smile that reached nowhere near his eyes. "We can restore your motor functions. We can return your sight to you entirely. We demand nothing in return; we simply harbor profound pity for your tragedy and wish to rehabilitate you."

?Abigail fell silent, her mind racing behind unseeing eyes. "You... want... nothing? I... am... not... a... fool," she rasped out. A thin trail of dark blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as the sheer strain of speaking tore at her throat.

?The doctor on the left sighed softly. "We genuinely only desire to aid your recovery. Tell us, Abigail... do you not harbor a burning desire to stand upon your own two feet once more... and exact vengeance?"

?A bitter, chilling laugh rattled in Abigail’s chest. "Vengeance... the... only... person... I... wish... to... erase... is... George... no... one... else," she spat out weakly.

?The three physicians exchanged a synchronized, heavy frown. "According to our intelligence logs, it was your own sister, Anah, who left you in this condition," the lead doctor stated smoothly. "Though official records conveniently frame her as the victim, your parents’ private statements paint a wildly different picture. You understand the truth, do you not?"

?A long, suffocating silence gripped the room.

?"What? She... offended... you... and... you... want... me... to... fight... her?" Abigail wheezed, her voice failing. "Sorry... I am merely... a half-dead... corpse."

?"We can grant you the power to reclaim your life... provided you are willing to cooperate," the three men spoke in unison, their tones dangerously uniform.

?Abigail stared into the dark void of her blindness, her heart hardening into pure obsidian. "F... fine... then," she forced out, the effort tearing her vocal cords further as fresh blood spilled past her lips.

?As her consciousness finally shattered into darkness and she slipped into unconsciousness, a cold, predatory smile bloomed across the faces of the three doctors.