Filed to story: Revenge After Prison: Never Forgiven (Abigail Gibson) Book PDF Free
“Right, right!” Helen clung to that like a drowning woman grabbing a rope, her eyes lit with fresh hope. “As long as we deny everything, the police can’t do anything to Boone. Once the media loses interest, this’ll all blow over.”
Adrian thought she was being way too optimistic, but he kept going. “I already went over it with Boone. He’s sticking to the story that the car was stolen, and he knows nothing about the crash. We’ll need to get in touch with the guy who took the fall – make sure he doesn’t mess things up.”
“You handle that,” Marshall said darkly. “If he dares say one wrong word, we’ve got plenty of ways to make sure he never sees daylight again.”
Adrian nodded. “I know what to do, Dad.”
“And there’s something else I need you to take care of…” Marshall leaned over and whispered a few words into Helen’s ear.
Helen’s eyes lit up when she heard the suggestion. Clenching her fists in excitement, she said, “Leave it to me. I’ll make sure she goes.”
The Gibson family quickly split up to carry out their next moves. Adrian contacted Boone’s manager and instructed him to start spreading the narrative that Boone’s car had been stolen, complete with a copy of the police report filed at the time.
Boone’s fans rushed out in full force to defend him.
“Boone’s car had already been stolen when the accident happened! There’s no way he was the one driving.”
“And the guy who caused the crash already turned himself in – he’s in prison right now! This whole thing smells like a setup to frame Boone!”
“Don’t be misled by all the biased nonsense online! Let’s believe in our boy and wait for the truth to come out!”
Fans spammed every social media platform, flooding timelines in an effort to shift public opinion. But some more level-headed netizens weren’t buying it, and started raising questions.
“If the car was stolen, why didn’t they make that public from the start? Why wait until now?”
“Just having a police report doesn’t prove the theft had nothing to do with the accident. That logic feels shaky at best.”
“And that guy who turned himself in – what if the Gibson family paid him off to take the blame? This whole thing stinks.”
The arguments online grew louder and messier, with both sides refusing to back down.
Meanwhile, back at the Gibson house, Abigail opened the door to find Helen standing outside. Her brows lifted in surprise. “What do you want?”
Helen gave her a quick glance. “Come with me. We’re going out.”
Abigail’s instincts kicked in immediately. Something’s off. “Where to?”
Helen forced a smile, but her eyes darted. “Abigail, it’s like this. The main branch said they’re willing to help save your brother. I want you to come meet the lady of the house with me so we can talk things through.”
When Abigail didn’t move, Helen’s expression hardened. “You refused to go ask Lucas for help – we didn’t force you. And now I’m just asking you to meet with the family matriarch, and even that’s too much for you?”
Abigail stared at her for a moment. Just as Helen thought she was about to refuse again, she nodded. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Helen’s heart lifted with relief. She hurried Abigail out the door.
Once they arrived, Abigail stepped out of the car and saw the words “Starlight Hotel” above the entrance. She froze at the curb. “I thought we were going to see the main family. Why are we at a hotel?”
Helen was clearly losing patience, but managed to explain with forced calm. “This is where she chose to meet. We’re the ones asking for help – we’re not exactly in a position to be picky.”
Abigail was full of doubt, but followed Helen into the hotel lobby anyway.
Helen led her into a private room. Sure enough, a beautifully dressed woman was already seated inside.
Helen’s face immediately lit up with a flattering smile. She turned to the woman and said, “Madam, thank you for waiting. This is my daughter, Abigail.”
Mandy, the matriarch of the Gibson main branch, gave Abigail a once-over and smiled. “No need to be formal – we’re all family. Please, have a seat.”
Helen pulled Abigail down beside her. Abigail kept a neutral expression, silently observing them both.
So this really was Mandy, the lady of the main house. Abigail recognized her from photos.
Could Helen really have brought me here just to talk about saving Boone?
The two women began discussing who they might reach out to for help and what resources they had available.
Abigail listened while quietly nibbling on food. She hadn’t eaten all day and was starving.
Just then, a hotel staff member pushed the door open holding a bottle of wine.
“Ma’am, here’s the wine you ordered.”
“Very good.” Mandy smiled and nodded. The server uncorked the bottle right there, poured wine into three glasses – for Mandy, Helen, and Abigail – and then quietly exited the room.
“Come on, let’s toast to the Madam,” Helen said, lifting her glass. “To thank her for being willing to lend a hand.” She motioned for Abigail to follow her lead.
Abigail saw the bottle had been opened on the spot, so she picked up her glass and clinked it with theirs.
Their glasses met with a soft chime. Abigail took another small sip. The wine spread across her tongue with its usual tartness – then came a sharp, bitter aftertaste that didn’t belong.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, a faint glint flickering in their depths.
Without a word, Abigail set her glass down.
Helen and Mandy kept chatting, but Abigail found her vision growing hazy. The next moment, her body slumped forward onto the table.
Helen and Mandy exchanged a satisfied glance.
“She must’ve had too much,” Mandy said calmly. “Help her to one of the rooms so she can rest.”
“Got it.” Helen quickly stood and supported Abigail as she led her out of the private room.
Mandy, completely unfazed, walked out of the hotel.
In the darkness, Abigail’s eyes suddenly snapped open. She flipped up from the bed in one swift motion.
The dim light revealed the room’s lavish furnishings – clearly the presidential suite of a hotel.
She’d known the wine was tampered with the moment it touched her tongue. Since all three of them had drunk from the same bottle, and she was the only one affected, the problem could only have been on her glass.
Abigail let out a cold laugh. They really went all out to drug me.
But what was their endgame? Why go this far together? What were they trying to pull?
Click. The lock gave a soft sound.
Footsteps echoed in the silence – steady, deliberate taps of dress shoes on tile.
