Abigail was still on the floor, her breathing erratic, her head struggling to understand the lie.
She couldn't believe three years.
Three years of waiting. Three years of believing. Three years of thinking Owen was suffering, and then finding out that she had been duped like an idiot.
At that moment her lips started trembling even more, but she forced herself to speak.
"Why., Owen?" Abigail voice was sounding bold, but the pain in it was undeniable.
"Why would you do this to me, after everything we had gone through?"
Owen smiled, not flinching an eye. He didn't even attempt to feel guilty about something.
"Money," he answered bluntly, shrugging his shoulders.
Immediately Abigail blinked.
"Money?" she asked, her voice incredulous.
Owen chuckled, as if amused by her reaction.
"They paid me five hundred million dollars," he answered, his tone matter-of-fact, as if he had just signed a simple business agreement.
Hearing what Owen just said, Abigail stared at him for a long moment before—
She had been able to make a half-laughed.
A hard, bitter one that rang across the room.
Owen's face scowled at this point.
"What's so hilarious?"
Abigail regarded him with a slight shaking of her head.
"You are an idiot," she said stiffly.
"Five hundred million dollars is out of my step-family's means. They lied to you."
Owen glared, but she wasn't finished.
"They'll have only a single company if I don't marry before the age of twenty-five. One. The others will be given to charities. So tell me, Owen—where in the world are they going to locate five hundred million dollars?"
At that moment Silence then fell over them.
Megan and Owen exchanged a look.
Abigail believed, for a moment, that she had detected wavering on Owen's face.
Then he smiled. Slowly, and contemptuously.
"You don't think I know that Abigail?" he replied, shaking his head.
Upon hearing what Owen just said, Abigail narrowed her eyes when she heard what Owen had just uttered.
Owen smirked.
"Your Grandmother was crazy for naming the charity companies that would be receiving the money," he said with a tone of arrogance.
Then he crouched down, looking her straight in the eyes.
"Because of the wide mouth of your grandmother, it was easy for us to get access to them."
Then Megan threw her head back and laughed.
"You actually thought you were smart, Abigail?" she sneered.
Her arms crossed over her chest as she walked towards her.
"We bought all the charities," she smirked.
"Every last one of them that was going to receive the money."
Hearing what Megan had just told her Abigail's heart sank.
She could barely breathe.
"You—" she said with a weak disgusting voice, her throat tightening.
At that moment Megan grinned, enjoying the look of complete amazement on Abigail's face.
"That's right," Amelia continued. "We have them now. Which means that when your inheritance gets 'donated,' it's still going directly to us."
At that moment Abigail's stomach churned.
This was even more terrible than she had ever imagined.
They had played her, tricked her, and now they were taking everything from her.
Then a clammy sweat broke out on her forehead.
Without being told She had to get out of here, she had to do something to save her grandmother Legacy, not all that she had ever struggled for, would be in the hands of Megan and her mother who were money-hungry due to her Carlessness, due to all, all because she trusted Owen.
Now it's biting back.
At that moment She tried to crawl away, her hands shaking, her body still recovering from the last blow.
But she'd only gone a short distance—Megan grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back.
"Where do you think you're going?" Megan taunted, tightening her hold.
Immediately Abigail gritted a wince but didn't answer.
Then Megan leaned her head closer, her breath hot on Abigail's ear.
"You're going to watch us take everything," she spat.
"And when it's all over, you'll be crying in your miserable little home."
Then she jerked Abigail's head back, forcing her to look at her.
"Or maybe," she smirked, "you'll join your dear stepfather in the psychology home."
At that moment Rage burned in Abigail's chest.
But before she could say a word—
Megan slapped her.
The force of it sent Abigail's head snapping to the side.
Then—another hit.
And another.
Each blow weakened her further.
But she still tried to crawl.
She would not quit.
She could not.
But as she tried to rise again—
Another strike.
Immediately a sharp explosion of pain flashed in her head, and she saw nothing.
She collapsed.
Then Owen and Megan exchanged a satisfied glance at that time.
"Finally," Owen groaned, shaking his head.
They crouched down, grabbed her by the arms, and hauled her into the bedroom.
There, they tied her to a chair. Secure. Tight.
She did not stir.
She was shallow-breathing, out cold, passing in and out of consciousness.
Owen locked the door as Amelia snarled.
"When the time is up," she said in a whisper, her voice oozing venom, "we'll sedate her with the same drug we gave to our beloved stepdad."
Owen chuckled.
"She won't be able to wake up," Amelia continued, her eyes shining.
"And then. when her time is up, we will dispose of her in a psychology dorm."