The summons came abruptly, a coldly worded note delivered by a silent servant. Abigail was to present herself to Elena and Victor Voss, the architects of Dimitri's power. The palace, already a labyrinth of whispers and shadows, seemed to tighten around her as she made her way to their private chambers. The air was thick with an undercurrent of tension, the kind that prickled the skin and set the nerves on edge.
The doors to the Voss private chambers were heavy, adorned with intricate carvings that seemed to shift in the dim light. Abigail pushed them open, stepping into a room that was both opulent and stark. The walls were lined with dark wood, the furniture elegant and cold. Elena sat on a chaise, her fingers tracing the edge of a delicate teacup. Her eyes, the same silver as Dimitri's, held a gleam of amusement. Victor stood by the window, his back to the room, but his presence was palpable, a looming shadow that dominated the space.
"Ah, Abigail," Elena said, her voice like velvet. "We've been eager to meet you. Please, sit."
Abigail took a seat across from Elena, her back straight, her expression calm. She could feel Victor's gaze, heavy and disapproving, even before he turned around. His eyes, hard and assessing, swept over her, taking in every detail.
"You're the one causing such a stir," Victor said, his voice a low rumble. "The one who thinks she can challenge our family."
Abigail met his gaze steadily. "I don't seek to challenge anyone, Mr. Voss. I'm here to play the game, as it were."
Elena chuckled, a soft, melodic sound. "Oh, she's good, Victor. I do believe she might just be what we need."
Victor grunted, unimpressed. "We'll see about that."
The door opened again, and in walked Lilith Blackbourne. She was a vision of elegance, her dress clinging to her curves, her hair a cascade of dark curls. Her eyes, though, were cold, calculating. She moved with a grace that was almost predatory, her gaze locked onto Abigail.
"Ah, Lilith," Elena said, her smile never wavering. "So good of you to join us."
Lilith took a seat next to Abigail, her proximity deliberate. "I wouldn't miss this for the world," she purred. "After all, I have a vested interest in Dimitri's... entertainments."
Abigail felt the barb, but she didn't react. Instead, she turned to Lilith, her expression neutral. "I'm sure you do," she said softly.
Victor watched the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly. He turned to Abigail, his expression stern. "Let's get down to business, shall we? Tell me, Abigail, what do you know of politics?"
Abigail didn't hesitate. "Politics is a game of power, Mr. Voss. It's about alliances and betrayals, about knowing when to strike and when to retreat. It's about control."
Victor's lips curled into a slight smile. "And how do you fare in this game, hmm? Can you hold your own against those who would seek to undermine you?"
Abigail met his gaze, her expression steady. "I've faced worse than you, Mr. Voss. I won't falter now."
Victor's smile faded, replaced by a look of cold assessment. "We'll see about that. Tell me, what would you do if you found yourself in a room full of enemies, surrounded by those who seek your downfall?"
Abigail thought for a moment, her mind racing. She knew this was a test, a challenge designed to push her, to see if she would falter. But she had faced worse, had stared down darker things. She took a deep breath, her voice steady as she spoke.
"I would stand my ground," she said. "I would face them head-on, unyielding. I would show them that I am not afraid, that I will not be broken. And then, I would strike. I would take them down, one by one, until I was the last one standing."
The room fell silent, the only sound the ticking of a distant clock. Dimitri, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "Well said, Abigail," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "But can you back up those words with action?"
Abigail turned to him, her expression calm. "You know I can, Dimitri," she said softly. "You've seen it yourself."
Dimitri's eyes gleamed, a mix of amusement and challenge. "Indeed, I have," he said.
Victor's scrutiny deepened, his sharp gaze dissecting Abigail as if he were searching for a weakness.
"Confidence is easy when you're in control," he mused, his voice deceptively smooth. "But tell me, Abigail, what happens when the past comes calling? When the ghosts of your failures whisper your name?"
Abigail's jaw tightened. She kept her posture relaxed controlled but she knew what he was doing. He was pushing. Digging.
"Tell me, child," Victor continued, deliberate now, watching for the slightest shift in her composure. "What strength did your parents teach you before they abandoned you to the world?"
Silence.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
Abigail held his gaze, but something inside her coiled. Not in fear. In fury.
"Is that what you think happened?" she murmured, her voice soft dangerous. "That I was abandoned?"
Victor leaned back, satisfied that he had struck something deep. Doesn't matter what I think. Only what you believe. And what weakness still lingers because of it."
Lilith smiled, slow, almost mocking, watching the exchange like a spectator to bloodsport. Elena's amusement faded slightly curiosity sharpening in her expression.
Dimitri? He was no longer smirking.
"You don't know a thing about me," Abigail said at last, her tone silk wrapping around steel.
Victor exhaled, slow. "Then prove it. Prove to me that you carry no ghosts. That you won't crack when the past rears its head."
The room was still charged with Victor's challenge, the weight of his words pressing against Abigail's spine as she rose from her seat. She did not bow, did not offer a polite farewell she simply left.
Lilith's smirk followed her like a specter. Elena watched with knowing amusement. Julian barely moved. But Dimitri? He wasn't ready to let her go just yet.
She had just reached the corridor when his voice cut through the silence.
"Abigail."
She didn't turn immediately. She exhaled once steadying herself before facing him.
Dimitri stood in the doorway, silver eyes unreadable. Something lingered there, something unsettled.
"Did my father's words shake you?"
Her lips curled slightly, the faintest trace of amusement. "No, Dimitri. They just reminded me of something I already knew."
She saw the way his jaw tightened, how his fingers flexed slightly as if he wanted to say more. Wanted to ask more.
But Abigail didn't wait. She turned away, disappearing down the hall, leaving him standing in the doorway watching her go.