The dingy, dimly lit room was filled with the quiet hum of nervous tension. Three men stood huddled around a phone, their faces pale as one of them held the device to his ear. The sound of Lisa''s voice on the other end crackled through the speaker, and her sharp tone "So, it''s done?" Lisa asked, her voice smooth but with an underlying edge.


    was anything butforting.


    The man holding the phone, Greg, swallowed hard, trying to muster up some courage. "Y-Yeah, we did the job," he stammered, ncing at the other two men, who looked just as anxious as he did.


    There was a brief pause at the other end of the line before Lisa''s voice returned, this time with a wicked grin clearly audible in her tone. "Good job," she said, sounding pleased.


    Greg''s hands were mmy, and he shifted ufortably, exchanging a look with hispanions. They knew they had messed up, and now came the hard part-telling Lisa. Taking a deep breath, Greg opened his mouth to speak, but his voice caught in his throat. Lisa was not someone you wanted to deliver bad news to.


    Sensing his hesitation, Lisa''s voice snapped through the phone, sharp and impatient. "If you''ve got something to say, then say it. I don''t have all day!"


    Greg winced and finally blurted it out. "We... we were only supposed to scare her, like you said. But she, uh... she freaked out. She started running toward the street, and... the next thing we know, she got hit by a car."


    There was a stunned silence on the other end of the phone. Lisa, sittingfortably in her chic apartment, stood up so fast her chair scraped against the floor. Her eyes widened, and for a second, she was too surprised to speak. "What?" she finally spat out. "You were supposed to scare her, not kill her!"


    Greg flinched as if she could reach through the phone and p him. "We didn''t mean for it to happen! She just... freaked out and ran! And then we panicked and... well, we ran too."


    Lisa''s grip tightened on the phone as she paced back and forth. Her mind raced. This wasn''t part of the n. Abigail was supposed to be scared, shaken up enough to stay away from Alexander. But now, she might be seriously hurt or worse.


    "Do you even know if she''s alive?" Lisa demanded; her voice icy.


    Greg exchanged a nervous nce with the others. "Uh... no. We, uh... we didn''t stick around to check."


    Lisa let out a long, frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath. "Alright, listen up. None of you are to say a word about this to anyone. Got it? You all keep your mouth shut, and I''ll make sure the money is transferred. Understood?"


    Greg nodded, even though she couldn''t see him, and the other men murmured their agreement. "Got it," Greg said quickly. "We won''t say anything."


    "Good," Lisa said sharply before ending the call.


    As soon as the phone disconnected, Lisa tossed it onto the couch and stood there for a moment, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. Abigail might be dead. The thought should have made her panic, but instead, a slow grin spread across her lips. She walked over to therge window.


    She muttered to herself. "Well, I didn''t kill her. I just told them to scare her. If she ended up under a car, that''s not on me. Probably being dramatic anyway."


    She smirked, feeling the weight of her twisted thoughts shift into something resembling satisfaction.


    "A bonus on my n," she murmured, staring out at the bustling streets below. "More importantly, Alexander is mine again. Abigail''s out of the picture. I just hope no one digs too deep and assumes this was just a pure ident."


    With a deep breath, Lisa leaned against the ss, her reflection staring back at her, the grin still on her face.


    As Lisa basked in her twisted sense of victory, the men on the other side of the phone call were in full panic mode.


    "We are so screwed," Oscar muttered, pacing back and forth in the grimy warehouse they were holed up in.


    "No kidding," said Hank, the tallest of the three, rubbing his hands over his face. "Boss might act like she''s cool with it now, but what if she decides to pin this whole thing on us if the heat gets too high?"


    Tom, the quietest of the group, finally spoke up from where he sat on a crate. "We have to make sure no one finds out we were involved. Wey low, keep our heads down, and pray no one links us to that woman."


    The next day, ire had ns to


    visit Abigail at the hospital. She sat on her couch, herptop already open, her fingers flying over the


    keyboard. Her brows furrowed


    she typed out emails with the usual efficiency. She was still recovering, but clearly, that hadn''t stopped her from diving right back into work.


    Matthew, however, had other thoughts. He had let himself into ire''s penthouse, quietly slipping inside like a stealthy ninja-except for the fact that he stumbled over his own shoe as he closed the door behind him. ire didn''t even look up. "ire," Matthew said, exasperated, as he stood in the middle of the living room. "You''re supposed to be resting. You''re still weak."


    ire waved a hand in dismissal, her eyes not leaving theptop screen. "I''m fine, Matthew. I''ve already had my tea. Plus, I n on visiting Abigail today. You cane with me if you''re so worried."


    Matthew blinked. "You''re serious? ire, you just donated your blood. You need more than just tea to get back to normal."


    "I''m fine," ire insisted again, still


    not tearing her eyes away from the screen. She typed furiously, her fingers moving at lightning speed "Besides, you can drive. That way, you can make sure I don''t faint on the way to the hospital."


    Matthew sighed, clearly defeated, but he knew arguing with ire was like arguing with a brick wall-pointless. "Fine, but we should stop and get something for Abigail. Flowers, maybe some fruit." ire finally looked up, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thoughtful. Let''s do that."


    Meanwhile, back at the office, Alexander was having a much less peaceful morning. He strolled into Christian''s office, not bothering to knock, and flopped onto the couch with a groan. Christian looked up from his desk, surprised to see Alexander looking so worn out.


    "Rough morning?" Christian asked, raising an eyebrow.


    Alexander nodded, rubbing his temples. "You could say that. I need a favor."


    Christian leaned back in his chair, intrigued. "What is it?"


    "I need a good publicist. One who isn''t like Mateo Jones that guy''s a nightmare," Alexander said with a grimace. "Someone who actually knows how to respect people."


    Christian chuckled, nodding. "Consider it done, though. I''ll find someone better for you."


    Alexander let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks. I can''t deal with more drama right now."N?velDrama.Org ? 2024.


    There was a brief pause before Alexander continued, his expression more serious. "By the way, Abigail''s in the hospital."


    Christian''s eyes widened. "What? What happened?"


    "Car identst night," Alexander exined, his voice heavy with concern.


    Christian''s face softened with worry. "Is she going to be, okay?"


    "She''s being treated at the hospital right now. I''m not sure how bad it is, though. My mother made me leavest night to get some rest. I haven''t checked in yet today, but I''m heading back to the hospital soon." Christian nodded, his mind clearly processing the news. "I''ll visit her after I''m done with work."


    Silence filled the room for a few moments as Christian took in the weight of the situation. Then Alexander suddenly said, almost too casually, "Oh, and ire donated her bloodst night."


    Christian had been mid-sip of his water when those words hit him. He choked, sputtering, and barely managed to swallow the rest of his drink without coughing it all over his desk. "Wait, what?" he gasped, his eyes wide with disbelief.