The Twisted Obsession-Chapter 307: The plan

Margaret sat alone in the dimly lit room, her once-beautiful features twisted with bitterness as she stared at the faded, ornate mirror in front of her. The reflection that greeted her was almost unrecognizable—haunted eyes, deep lines etched into her face from years of anger and resentment. She traced the lines with a trembling finger, her thoughts spiraling into the past, to the time before everything went so horribly wrong.

There was a time when Margaret had been the center of attention, basking in the wealth and influence that came with being the wife of a powerful man. She had been respected, even feared, in the circles she moved in. People listened when she spoke, they sought her approval, her favor. But all of that had been stripped away, ripped from her grasp by the very person she had once thought she could control—her niece, Abigail. fгeewёbnoѵel_cσm

"That little witch," Margaret muttered under her breath, her voice laced with venom. Abigail had always been a quiet girl, seemingly harmless, but Margaret knew now just how deceiving appearances could be. That girl had played her for a fool, manipulating everyone around her while Margaret had been too blind to see it. And the price she paid for her naivety was high.

It had all started to crumble when Abigail had her committed to that dreadful psychiatric hospital. Margaret shuddered at the memory—the cold, sterile walls, the patronizing doctors who treated her like she was insane. But she wasn’t crazy, she knew that much. She was just angry. Angry that the life she had worked so hard to build was crumbling around her because of a girl she had underestimated.

Her fall from grace had been swift and brutal. Once she had been released from the hospital—thanks to the efforts of her past lover, Dominic—she found herself isolated, her influence gone, her wealth squandered in futile legal battles and Abigail’s ruthless financial maneuvers. The empire that had once belonged to her husband was now firmly in Abigail’s grasp, and Margaret was left with nothing but the clothes on her back and the venom in her heart.

"I should have seen it coming," she whispered to herself, clenching her fists until her knuckles turned white. "I should have crushed her before she ever had the chance to turn on me."

But it was too late for regrets. The damage had been done. And now, all she had left was her hatred, burning bright and fierce, fueling her every waking moment.

A soft knock on the door pulled Margaret from her dark thoughts. She straightened in her chair, her eyes narrowing as Dominic entered the room, his tall, imposing figure casting a shadow over her.

"There you are," he said, his voice smooth as silk, but with an edge that always sent a shiver down Margaret’s spine. He walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, his touch both comforting and possessive. "Still brooding, my love?"

Margaret looked up at him, her bitterness hardening into resolve. "I’m not brooding, Dominic. I’m planning."

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Planning, are we? And what might that entail?"

"Abigail," she spat the name like a curse. "She ruined me, took everything from me. She’s going to pay for it."

Dominic’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "Now that’s the woman I fell in love with," he purred, leaning down to brush his lips against her temple. "And how do you plan to make her pay?"

Margaret hesitated, her mind racing. She had been thinking about revenge for so long, but now that the moment had arrived, she wasn’t sure where to begin. Abigail was powerful, more powerful than she had ever been. But Dominic was more cunning, more ruthless. With his help, maybe—just maybe—she could take back what was rightfully hers.

"I don’t know," she admitted, hating the weakness in her voice. "But I won’t let her win, Dominic. I won’t."

Dominic straightened, his expression thoughtful as he studied her. "We’ll need to be smart about this," he said slowly, as if considering each word carefully. "Abigail is no fool. She’s cunning, and she’s surrounded by powerful allies. We can’t strike openly, not yet."

Margaret nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. "Then what do we do?"

"We bide our time," he said, his voice taking on a dark, calculating tone. "We let her believe she’s won, let her grow complacent. And when the time is right, we’ll strike where it hurts the most."

A thrill of anticipation ran through Margaret at his words. She had been waiting so long for this, for the chance to take back what was stolen from her. And now, with Dominic by her side, she could almost taste the victory.

"But we can’t just wait forever," she protested, her anger flaring again. "I need to see her suffer, Dominic. I need to see her brought to her knees."

"And you will, my love," Dominic assured her, his voice soft but firm. "But we must be patient. Revenge is best served cold, after all. Trust me, when the time comes, we’ll make sure she pays for every single thing she’s done to you."

Margaret closed her eyes, letting his words sink in, letting them soothe the burning rage inside her. He was right. They needed to be careful, to be patient. Abigail had taken everything from her, but she wouldn’t get away with it. Not if Margaret had anything to say about it.

"I trust you," she whispered, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. "I trust you to help me make this right."

Dominic’s smile was a twisted thing, full of promises that sent a shiver down Margaret’s spine. "We’ll make it right together," he promised, his hand tightening on her shoulder. "And when we do, you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted."

Margaret nodded, a slow smile spreading across her own lips. She could see it now, the future she had been denied—the wealth, the power, the respect she had lost. And at the center of it all, Abigail, broken and defeated, finally paying for the crimes she had committed against her.

Yes, Margaret thought, a fierce determination settling in her chest. She would make sure of it. She would make sure Abigail paid. No matter what it took.

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