Abel didn't say a word. He simply looked at his mother, his eyes swirling with rage, sadness, and a mix of emotions too complex to name. The pain in his gaze was impossible to miss, like a wound laid bare for all to see. Then, without a sound, he rose and walked out of the room. His steps were deliberate, each one echoing the storm within him. Everyone in the room watched him leave, their eyes silently shifting to his mother, full of questions they dared not ask. The tension hung heavy, and the silence that followed was suffocating. No one spoke, no one moved, until finally, Abel's mother broke the uneasy stillness.
"Nina, when are we expecting Luiza?" she asked, her voice steady, though her strained smile betrayed the turmoil within.
"If all goes well, maybe tomorrow, but definitely the day after," Nina replied thoughtfully. "The doctors are reluctant to discharge her. They're worried she hasn't fully recovered yet."
"Very well, then. Please help me prepare a room for her," Abel's mother said, her tone softening with a hint of hope. "I think the room between yours and Abel's would be best. It might give her a sense of security. Don't you think?"
Nina nodded but hesitated, concern flickering in her eyes. "That's a good idea, but the doctors said she shouldn't meet or see Abel for now. The problem is, this house has so many pictures of him. Should we change the décor?"
Abel's mother pondered for a moment before answering. "We want Abel to make amends, and for both of them to reconcile. Let's leave the pictures for now, so she gets used to seeing his face. If it triggers her, of course, we'll adjust and take it slow."
Everyone agreed, though an undercurrent of uncertainty lingered.
Meanwhile, Abel drove off in one of his favorite cars—a sleek black Audi A8, understated yet undeniably luxurious. It was the kind of car that spoke volumes about its owner's wealth without flaunting it. He headed to his private estate, a sanctuary far removed from the chaos of his family's home. Located in an exclusive and heavily guarded area, the mansion was a fortress of solitude. The modern exterior, a striking blend of black steel and tinted glass, exuded power and secrecy. It stood in sharp contrast to the lush greenery that surrounded it, a symbol of his dominance in a world where trust was a rare commodity.
Inside, the house was a masterpiece of design. The vast living room featured floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a stunning view of the landscaped garden, while the black marble floors reflected the soft glow of recessed lighting. Every piece of furniture, from the leather sofas to the polished oak tables, was chosen with precision, blending elegance and functionality. The mansion's true marvel, however, was its state-of-the-art security system and a private study that housed Abel's collection of rare books and artifacts. His bedroom was equally imposing, with a massive bed draped in black and silver linens, and a ceiling designed to mimic a starlit sky.
Abel issued strict instructions to his staff not to disturb him and retreated to his room. After a long shower, he changed into comfortable pajamas and lay on the bed, staring at the celestial ceiling. His mind was restless, replaying the doctor's words about Lisa's PTSD. He couldn't understand how someone he thought he knew so well could harbor such deep scars. It felt as though a piece of the puzzle was missing, and the uncertainty gnawed at him. Frustrated, he summoned his subordinates, instructing them to dig deeper into Lisa's past. He needed answers, no matter the cost.
Back at his parents' home, Abel's mother and Nina poured their energy into preparing Lisa's room. By the end of the day, the transformation was complete. The walls were painted a calming lavender, and the bed was dressed in soft white linens accented with pastel cushions. A plush armchair sat by the window, next to a small table holding a vase of fresh flowers. The room radiated warmth and serenity, a perfect haven for someone who needed healing.
Two days passed, but Lisa wasn't discharged. Those days brought her an unexpected sense of peace. The hospital was quiet, and the staff treated her with genuine care. She missed Henry, but for the first time in a long while, she felt safe. Her mind wandered back to the events that had led her here, but she reminded herself that her priority was healing.
Nina visited daily, though Lisa initially met her visits with suspicion. Their first meeting had been far from ideal, and Lisa struggled to trust her intentions. But when Nina brought Abel's mother along, Lisa's reservations began to fade. There was something comforting about Abel's mother, a warmth and grace that drew Lisa in. She couldn't reconcile how such a compassionate woman could have a son as cold as Abel.
During her stay, Lisa was given a phone, though it was heavily restricted. She could only contact her immediate family, and social media was off-limits. She didn't mind; she craved the quiet and was relieved to avoid the scrutiny of the outside world. The doctors extended her stay to run more tests and closely monitor her recovery, especially given her pregnancy.
As for the Stevens family, they were unraveling. Mr. Stevens clung to the pretense of stability, unwilling to divorce despite the toll it took on everyone. Carol, meanwhile, seemed indifferent to the chaos around her. She spent her days buried in books, retreating into a world of her own making. The once-proud family was a shadow of what it had been, their reputation tarnished and their bonds frayed.
Two weeks later, Lisa was discharged. Nina and Abel's mother arrived to take her home, their presence now familiar and comforting. As they drove, Lisa couldn't help but wonder what kind of life awaited her in their world of luxury and secrets.