Abigail’s lips curled slightly into a tight, bitter smile as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs slowly. "I know what I’m doing, Victoria," she said in a low, confident tone. "There’s sothing already on my mind. But it’s not sothing I can tell you right now. Timing is everything, and I won’t ss this up because I rushed. You’ll know when I need you to know. But just trust it’s not going to be nice."
Victoria let out a sharp sigh and folded her arms, pacing a few steps across the office floor. "Well, you may want to be secretive with your plan, but I’m not going to sit around and watch. I have my own way of handling things too. I’m going to speak to my father. I’ll tell him everything about what Robert said, about what just happened, and how he’s been defending that woman like she’s so goddess. My father isn’t going to take this lightly. He’ll do what’s necessary. And if I know him well enough... Robert is about to feel sothing he wasn’t ready for."
At that mont, Abigail glance at Victoria with a calm, yet dangerous look in her eyes. "No problem," she muttered under her breath, her voice low but heavy with quiet rage. "I really need to get sothing going now."
Victoria folded her arms and nodded sharply. "Good," she said with a twisted smile, "because I’m not just going to sit back and let that bitch keep winning. I’m heading out right now to go settle scores with Robert myself. You just sit tight and wait for the good news."
With that, Victoria turned on her heels and marched out of the room with purpose, her heels clicking against the marble floor. The door shut behind her with a thud.
Left alone, Abigail stood still for a mont, her arms crossed tightly. Her expression was hard to read half fury, half disappointnt. She then reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. Her fingers didn’t hesitate. She knew exactly who to call.
The line barely rang once before a voice picked up on the other end.
Without a greeting, Abigail spoke coldly. "I have a job for you."
The man on the other end didn’t interrupt, didn’t ask questions. He simply waited.
"I’ll be sending you two pictures. First, find the guy in the first picture. Track him. I don’t care how you do it. Once you’ve got him," she paused, her jaw clenching harder, "then I’ll tell you what to do to the woman in the second picture."
There was silence. Then the man said flatly, "Noted."
The call ended.
Then Abigail lowered the phone slowly, her eyes narrowed. Her jaw was tight not just from anger, but from disbelief. Disbelief that Robert... Robert, of all people, could stoop this low. How dare he humiliate her? How dare he break her pride?
But what burned her even more was the fact that she was losing....losing to another woman. A woman who wasn’t even close to her level. A woman she considered beneath her. That humiliation... that pain... it was so bitter, it made her want to scream.
**
Oliver was seated in his office, the wide glass windows casting a glow of sunlight across the polished desk. His posture was composed, but his eyes carried that familiar sharpness the look of a man who was always ten steps ahead. The office was still until the sound of the door opening broke the silence. Lisa stepped inside, her movents careful and respectful.
She paused halfway across the room, bowed her head slightly, and extended an envelope toward him. Her voice was soft but direct.
"Sir, these are the pictures of both ladies, and their details are attached below."
Without hesitation, Oliver reached forward, his long fingers wrapping around the envelope. He opened it in one smooth motion, his eyes narrowing as he slid the contents out. The first photograph caught his attention.
It was Victoria.
His gaze lingered on the picture, studying her features with a quiet intensity, as though searching for weakness hidden beneath her confident smile. Slowly, his lips parted.
"So..." he murmured, his voice calm yet cutting, "she’s among the ladies giving Cora a tough ti."
Lisa, standing a few steps away, lifted her eyes just enough to nod in confirmation. "Yes, sir," she replied, her tone steady. "Victoria. She’s from the Jackson family."
Oliver leaned back in his chair, the photograph still between his fingers. A faint smirk played at the corner of his lips, though his eyes remained cold. "Jackson family," he repeated slowly.
At that mont, Lisa’s confirmation only seed to fuel Oliver’s resolve. His fingers drumd lightly on the edge of the envelope as he studied the picture of Victoria Jackson, his gaze hard and calculating. The polished smile in her photograph mocked him; it was almost as if she had no idea the storm that was already circling above her head.
Oliver leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening. "So this is the daughter of the Jacksons," he muttered, his voice carrying a cold edge. "They raised her without discipline, without control. Look at her pampered, arrogant, and reckless. And now she thinks she can throw her weight around and tornt Cora? Just because of her family na?" His tone dropped lower, more nacing. "The Jacksons should have contained their daughter, but since they chose not to, they’ve left with no other choice."
Lisa shifted uneasily, but she didn’t interrupt. She had seen this look in Oliver’s eyes before, the one that ant he was done tolerating foolishness.
Then Oliver rose slowly from his chair, tossing Victoria’s picture back onto the desk. "If the Jackson family refuses to teach her the aning of limits, then I will. I’ll give them a visit they will never forget. Let them understand that no family, no na, no fortune places them beyond reach. Not when they co after what’s mine."
His voice grew firm, laced with finality. "They will learn that when anyone cross certain lines, you pay the price. And I will make sure Victoria Jackson and her family learn that lesson, perfectly."
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