Chapter 12

Abigail’s POV

The plane touched down smoothly at the private terminal, and as I stepped out into the bright sunlight, the reality of being back home sank in. Our honeymoon was officially over.

I spotted Elijah’s driver waiting near the car, a tall, dark sedan gleaming in the midday light. But instead of letting the driver take us home, Elijah walked over with a confident stride and a warm smile.

“Take the rest of the day off,” he said, slipping a generous tip into the driver’s hand.

The driver’s eyes widened, clearly surprised, but he took the money, bowing slightly.

“Thank you, sir,” the driver replied, handing over the car keys. Elijah nodded in appreciation and turned towards me, holding the keys in one hand.

He looked every bit the composed, charming man everyone knew him to be. I watched him as he came closer, a slight breeze tousling his dark hair.

He walked over to my side, opening the car door with a small, almost hesitant smile.

“Ready to go home?” he asked.

For a moment, I hesitated. The word "home" felt strange on my lips, but I nodded and slipped into the passenger seat.

Elijah closed the door behind me with a soft click and then got into the driver’s seat.

As the engine purred to life, we pulled away from the airport, the city’s skyline stretching out before us.

The drive was quiet, the hum of the car’s engine filling the silence. I stared out the window, my mind replaying scenes from our honeymoon.

There had been moments of genuine connection, and I’d even started to think that maybe, just maybe, this arranged marriage could turn into something real.

But every time I felt that glimmer of hope, I reminded myself why I was really here—why I had agreed to this in the first place.

It wasn’t for love or romance. It was for control.

We arrived at the apartment building, a sleek, modern high-rise in one of the most exclusive parts of the city. Elijah pulled into the underground garage, parking in a spot marked with his initials.

He hurried around to open my door, but I had already stepped out by the time he reached my side.

A fleeting look of frustration crossed his face before he masked it with his usual charming smile.

Together, we walked to the elevator in silence. The tension between us felt almost tangible, a heavy presence in the enclosed space.

As we reached the top floor, Elijah led the way to our apartment, a penthouse with a view of the entire city.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let me go in first.

The sight that greeted me took my breath away. High ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows, and an expansive living room filled with elegant, modern furniture.

The color scheme was soothing, a mix of whites, grays, and muted blues, creating an atmosphere of understated luxury.

Soft lighting accentuated the art on the walls, and a sleek kitchen with marble countertop was visible through an open-plan design.

I walked in slowly, turning in a circle to take it all in. Despite myself, I was impressed.

Elijah had impeccable taste. I couldn’t help but wonder how much of this he had personally chosen, and how much had been handled by an interior designer.

I felt Elijah’s eyes on me, watching my reaction. He set my bags down by the door, then waited, as if unsure what to say next.

I turned to face him, folding my arms over my chest.

“Where is my room?” I asked, my voice cool and measured.

A flicker of something crossed his face—disappointment, maybe? But he recovered quickly, nodding towards the hallway.

“You’re in the master suite, of course. Down the hall, first door on the right.”

I narrowed my eyes, crossing my arms tighter. “I hope you’re not expecting us to stay in the same room, Elijah, because that’s not going to happen,” I said, my tone sharp.

He raised his hands in a placating gesture, his smile faltering just a bit. “No, of course not,” he said quickly.

“I want you to be comfortable. If you prefer a separate room, that’s fine.” He gestured down the hall and picked up my bags again.

“Follow me. I’ll show you to your room.”

I trailed behind him as he led the way down the hall, stopping in front of a door. He pushed it open, revealing a beautifully decorated bedroom.

The room was spacious, with a large bed covered in soft linens, a cozy reading nook by the window, and an ensuite bathroom with sleek fixtures.

It was elegant yet inviting, clearly designed to make me feel at home.

I walked in, taking a moment to glance around. The decor was perfect—stylish without being overwhelming. For a brief second, I allowed myself to appreciate the comfort and luxury. Then I turned back to Elijah, who stood by the door, watching me with an unreadable expression.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, keeping my voice neutral.

He nodded, setting my suitcases down by the closet. “If you need anything, just let me know,” he said before turning and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Alone at last, I sat down on the edge of the bed, my mind racing. The luxury and beauty of the apartment did little to calm my thoughts.

Despite everything, despite the opulence surrounding me, my mind drifted to Nora, my stepmother.

The woman who had controlled and manipulated my life for so long. She thought she had won, pushing me into this marriage to solidify her own power. But she underestimated me.

Now, as Elijah’s wife, I had a new position of influence, a new set of tools at my disposal.

I could feel a plan forming in the back of my mind, a way to turn the tables on Nora. To use this marriage not just for survival but for victory.

I stood up, walking to the window. The city stretched out before me, a sprawling landscape of possibilities.

My reflection stared back at me from the glass—determined, confident. This was my chance to regain control, to show Nora that I was not the weak, obedient stepdaughter she had always thought I was.

I would find her weaknesses, exploit them, and finally free myself from her grasp.

A slow smile spread across my face as I imagined Nora’s reaction. She would never see it coming.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the city, I made a silent vow to myself. I would take back my life, my dignity, and my power.

This marriage was my key to freedom, and I was going to use it to its fullest potential.

This was just the beginning. Nora had made her move, but now it was my turn.