Filed to story: Revenge After Prison: Never Forgiven (Abigail Gibson) Book PDF Free
A low voice responded on the other end, “Understood. You can count on me.”
Abigail hung up and leaned back on the couch, eyes sharp with cold resolve. “People should pay for what they’ve done.”
The next day, a new comment stirred things up online.
The poster claimed to be a resident living near the site of the infamous accident. According to them, on the night of the crash, they saw a luxury car speeding away from the scene.
As soon as the comment appeared, a flood of replies followed.
“For real? Sounds like a clout-chaser to me.”
“Pics or it didn’t happen.”
“Probably just wants internet fame. Dream on.”
The skepticism was overwhelming – but the original poster stayed silent, vanishing completely.
And that silence only made things worse.
The comment’s popularity soared, boosted by its mystery and the public’s growing curiosity.
Boone’s team caught wind of it fast. The manager panicked. “Shut it down. Now!”
“And put out a tweet,” he added. “Say Boone has nothing to do with any of this. If anyone keeps spreading rumors, we’ll take legal action. Make the tone firm – no room for doubt.”
Sure enough, the tweet worked. Suspicions around Boone nearly vanished overnight.
Breathing easier, Boone began feeding his manager juicy gossip – unrelated scandals from inside the entertainment industry. His goal? Distract the public and bury the crash rumor.
And it worked.
One after another, scandals exploded online: a top-tier actress secretly married with kids, a famous director caught bullying crew members on set, and more. The public latched onto the new headlines, and the car crash thread lost traction fast.
For the moment, Boone seemed to have slipped away from the spotlight unscathed.
Meanwhile, Abigail scrolled through the headlines, half-watching the chaos unfold, half-counting the days until Lucas’s next detox session.
But Lucas beat her to it.
As she gazed out the car window, she realized they weren’t headed toward the Hawthorne family estate.
Catching her gaze in the rearview mirror, Andrew explained, “Ms. Gibson, sir thought the estate had too many eyes and ears. He’s taking you to one of his private properties – no interruptions.”
Abigail remembered mentioning after the Eastgate Lounge incident that they should avoid being seen together in public. At the time, she’d been disgusted by Mason’s actions. She hadn’t expected Lucas to take it seriously.
She gave a slight nod. “Got it.”
The car pulled to a smooth stop in front of a European-style villa, elegant and secluded.
Lucas was already waiting at the entrance, tall and poised, eyes dark and unreadable. As Abigail stepped out, he approached, voice low and gentle. “Miss Gibson. Thank you for coming.”
Abigail met his gaze. “It’s fine. This is a transaction, after all.”
With that, she followed him into the house.
Lucas led Abigail into a room carefully arranged like a treatment clinic. Medical equipment and traditional herbal instruments were laid out in neat order, everything spotless and well-prepared.
“Take a look. Let me know if anything’s missing. Andrew can handle the rest,” Lucas said.
Abigail glanced around and gave a slight nod. “You’ve prepared everything well. I’ll let Andrew know if we need anything else.”
Lucas pointed toward a wall lined with drawers. “The herbs from Everherb Hall are stored over there. Some rare ones are still being sourced – they’ll send them over as soon as they arrive.”
“No rush.” Abigail walked to the herb cabinet, opened a drawer, and inspected the contents. “These are top-quality.”
“Everherb Hall’s the biggest herbal supplier in the country. Their reputation’s solid,” Lucas said casually, opening a drawer of his own.
Abigail gave a small smile. She knew Everherb Hall’s standing better than he did. “Alright, I’ll take your pulse now.”
As she placed her fingers on his wrist, her brow furrowed slightly, carefully sensing the subtle shifts in his pulse.
After a moment, she withdrew her hand and spoke thoughtfully. “Looks like the herbal baths are working. Your recovery is holding steady, but the toxins are still deeply rooted. We’ll need to increase the dosage and continue with acupuncture.”
“Okay,” Lucas replied simply – then stood up and began unbuttoning his shirt without hesitation.
Abigail blinked, caught off guard. His slender, long fingers undid the first button with a practiced ease. The motion was fluid, almost elegant. His skin was pale and smooth, veins faintly visible beneath – cool and beautiful in a way that made it hard to look away.
Her eyes were drawn to his movements as if magnetized. The second button slipped loose, his collar opened wide, and the firm lines of his chest came into view – each muscle well-shaped, defined, and brimming with life.
Lucas turned slightly and undid the remaining buttons in one fluid motion. His shirt slid from his shoulders and down his arms like silk.
Abigail suddenly felt her breath catch. She blinked hard, quickly turned away, and busied herself with the tools in the medical kit.
Only belatedly did she realize – Why was she looking away? She was the doctor. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen him shirtless.
Lucas, apparently unfazed, stripped off his trousers next and lay face-down on the treatment bed, waiting.
Abigail brought over the sterilized tools and began disinfecting the needles. Her focus was intense, and Lucas couldn’t help but look at her.
She sensed his gaze but ignored it, concentrating fully as she inserted each needle into the designated acupoints with precision.
Lucas gritted his teeth through the stinging ache. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead.
One needle after another, the pain built. Sweat trickled from his brow, soaking the sheets beneath him.
When the last needle slid into place, Abigail exhaled deeply, only then realizing that her back was soaked with sweat too.
Every session took an immense toll on her mentally and physically.
By the time she removed all the needles, she was completely spent.
Abigail collapsed into the chair beside the bed, too drained to even lift a hand and wipe the sweat from her forehead.
Lucas lay prone, chest rising and falling heavily, sweat trailing down his face and neck, dampening the sheets around him.
The pain of the procedure had pushed him to his limit.
