Stolen Identity: Mute Heiress

Abigail drew a deep breath as she rose from the bed and held Jamal's gaze. "It means what I did there is between me and Ryan. I've always wanted to do that even before you came into the picture. I didn't tell you because I know how you are. I know you'd try to stop me and I didn't want that," she said with a shrug but didn't meet his gaze.

"We're in this together, Abigail," Jamal said. "Whatever you do now doesn't affect just you. It affects me and everyone else too. You can't make such decisions without careful consideration."

"If I had told you would you have let me do it?" Abigail asked with a raised brow. "Besides, now that we know your best friend is tied to Ryan, I can't exactly tell you everything, can I? I don't want you feeling guilty in front of him. You should understand."

"That doesn't make any sense," Jamal said, shaking his head. "Stop making rash decisions. That fire you caused, it's a crime. It could easily spread to other…"

"The fire Ryan caused was a crime too but he didn't get punished, did he?" she cut in.

"You are not Ryan," he snapped, annoyed that she wasn't listening to him.

Her brown eyes flashed with annoyance at his tone but she didn't say anything. Instead she went to sit on the bed with her hands in her lap.

Jamal drew a deep breath as he went to sit beside her. "I don't want us to fight over this. I'm just trying to say, doing what Ryan did won't make you better than him. Just… let's handle this the right way." He took her hands in his. "I know he stole your name. I know he made your life hell. But if you think about it, he could've done worse, and he didn't. He could have even killed you."

"Are you asking me to be grateful that he only stole my name and made my life hell only a little bit?" Abigail asked in a tight annoyed voice.

"No. I'm asking you to let him pay the right way, so you don't become like him while trying to punish him. That's how he started too, remember? He wanted to punish your Mom and look all he did. Now you want to punish him but you're going about it the wrong way. You're doing things his way…."

"Because it takes a monster to destroy a monster," Abigail cut in firmly.

"Well, you're not a monster. I'm not going to let you become one either. Josh doesn't need a monster for a mom, and neither do I need a monster for a wife. Do you know how much damage that fire could have caused? What if it spreads to other properties in the neighborhood?"

Abigail rolled her eyes. "It won't spread that far. I'm not stupid. I specifically started the fire in the parts of the house I really wanted to burn because I know before it spreads too far the neighbors would contact the fire department," she said with stubborn confidence.

"And what happens if the police finds evidence that you started the fire? What will you do then? Are you willing to go to jail for a crime you committed to punish Ryan?" Jamal asked, and he noticed the flicker of doubt in her eyes then.

"Tom and the others can handle it, can't they? Am I not allowed to throw tantrums and make reckless decisions like this just once after all he put me through?" She asked with a small frown.

Jamal sighed softly. "I'm glad you realize it was a reckless decision. Just don't throw violent tantrums. And talk to me before you do stuff. I'm here because of you. I'm here for you. Don't leave me out of your plans."

She took a deep breath. "Fine. I'm sorry. Don't be mad," she said with a small pout, shifting closer to him and resting her head on his chest as she wrapped her arms around him.

Jamal held her close and kissed the top of her head. "I'm not mad."

"You were. I saw your face in the car," she said, and he shrugged.

"I wasn't mad. Disappointed, maybe. And worried. But not mad. Uncle Harry called earlier while I was with Josh to talk about the fire. I did my best to defend you, but he said you shouldn't do any more reckless stuff and they'll take care of the mess you made."

She pulled back and looked into his face, "Thank goodness. Well, since you weren't mad, I hope you won't be mad when you hear that I put out several articles about Ryan. Although I did it anonymously. I want to shake up the shareholders so I can buy the company shares."

He sighed, rubbing his brow. "Sweet Jesus!"

"I did it anonymously. And I didn't post any false news," she said defensively. "Think about it, now is the best time to do that."

"I'll tell Uncle Harry. Maybe we can buy enough shares and become majority shareholders before Ryan gets back. But from now on, you don't do anything without telling me first."

"I promise. I won't," Abigail said, relieved that he wasn't too mad at her. "So, did we just have our first fight?"

Jamal snorted but chuckled. "We had our first and many other fights twenty years ago. This doesn't count as a fight. And I'm hoping we never have to fight."

Abigail laughed. "We will fight. We definitely will not see eye to eye on every subject. Fighting is a normal aspect of human relationship. But we'll have to make sure we fight right and with mutual respect."

Jamal grinned. "Yes, ma'am. Now hand over your phone."

"What for?" She asked, and he raised a brow.

"I guess your genius brain didn't tell you that he possibly installed a tracker and might know our location through this?" Jamal said, and her eyes widened slightly.

"Well, I guess that's why we are two geniuses, although I'm smarter," she said, and Jamal laughed.

"Transfer whatever you need and delete whatever needs to be deleted so I can have them get rid of it," he said, and she took his phone.

"Not much needs to be done since it's pretty new and I've been wary of using it. I'll just send the important stuff to your phone," she said and did just that.

"And the car key? What did you do with it?" Jamal asked, and she shook her head.

"I left it there in the house. By the way, did you know my governess?" She asked and Jamal scowled.

"Yeah. I didn't like her much. Why?"

Abigail's brows pulled together. "Why didn't you like her much? Did she do something?" Abigail asked curiously.

"She always seemed too strict with you. She was always ending our calls for you to attend one lesson or the other and she hardly ever smiled," he said and she laughed.

"Oh. Well, she was just doing her job I'm sure. Remember the texts I told you I've been receiving? She was behind it. We spoke earlier. That was part of the reason I didn't get ready on time," Abigail said and told Jamal all about their conversation.

"If only she had reached out to us instead of making assumptions none of these would have happened. She knew how close we both were. She could have reached out to my Mom to talk to the Hanks," Jamal said with an annoyed frown.

"Well, it's all in the past now. Plus it's better late than never, right? That reminds me, you need to reach out to Stefan. Tell him to keep an eye on Genevieve. She's not planning to come back. I think she's trying to run away from there."

Jamal's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"She seemed like she was saying goodbye both last night and this morning. I can't explain it, but I believe she doesn't plan to go back," Abigail said, and Jamal pulled out his phone, and sent a quick message to Stefan.

[Keep your eyes on Genevieve. Abigail thinks she's planning to run away.]

Just as he wanted to drop his phone, it buzzed with a call from Mari and he received it immediately. "Have you heard anything from your Mom or Uncle Harry about my parents? I think they're missing. My Mom didn't show up at her concert and their lines are not connecting."

Jamal frowned. "I'll make some calls and get back to you. Don't panic, Mari. I'm sure they're alright."

"I'm hoping so. I really hope so. By the way, how are you doing? I heard from Emily about Ryan's condition…"

"Mari, let's talk about everything else later. I'll call my Mom and uncle Harry then call you back after I've confirmed your parents' location," Jamal said firmly before hanging up.

"Is something wrong?" Abigail asked with a slight frown.

"I hope not. Things are messed up enough right now. I don't want any more mess. Especially not for Mari," Jamal said before dialing his mother's number.