THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.

Chapter 205

At that moment before Abigail could respond, Victoria sharply turned toward James with a scoff, her eyes narrowing. She was clearly offended by the audacity in his words."What exactly are you trying to imply?" Victoria said with a mocking tone. "That you think we’re trying to trick you? That you think Abigail is someone who throws fake deals around just for fun?"

Immediately James opened his mouth to speak, but Victoria didn’t give him the chance.

"No, let me educate you real quick," she snapped, stepping forward with one heel clicking louder than the other on the floor. "Do you even know who you’re talking to? Do you even have a clue whose offer you just called into question?"

However Abigail watched silently, her expression unreadable. But Victoria wasn’t done.

She raised her chin proudly, her voice dripping with confidence and challenge. "I’m Victoria Jackson," she said firmly. "Of the Jackson family."o be pushed around even though, in truth, he was barely holding on.

Abigail didn’t flinch. She didn’t blink. Calmly and without hesitation, she replied, "No problem. You have a deal." Her voice was clear, measured, and far too relaxed for someone involved in such a high-stakes game. She wasn’t negotiating out of desperation; she was in control. Fully.

Encouraged by what he thought was a successful agreement, James extended his hand for a handshake to seal the deal a hopeful gesture, an attempt to make the moment feel more official, maybe even equal. But what followed humiliated him more than words ever could.

Abigail didn’t raise her hand. She didn’t meet his halfway. She simply stared at his outstretched palm like it was invisible. Victoria did the same, her eyes cold and unreadable. Neither of them said a word. They didn’t need to. Their silence was deafening.

Then, as though he weren’t even standing there, they both turned without saying anything and began walking toward their car. Not even a glance back.

At that moment James’s hand hung in the air for a second longer before he dropped it slowly, pretending to scratch his neck in a desperate attempt to mask his embarrassment. His chest tightened, but he swallowed the lump in his throat. He wanted to curse. He wanted to lash out. But what good would that do?

He reminded himself he was the one begging. He had no power here.

So he forced a smirk onto his lips, as if nothing had happened, and turned to head toward his own car. Each step felt heavier than the last. The sharp echo of Abigail’s heels behind him somehow still rang in his ears, even though she was already far away.

When he reached his car, he paused, his hand resting on the door handle. Deep down, despite everything that just happened, despite the humiliation, the one thing that kept pounding in his chest was simple and clear:

He needed to see Cora again.

Not later now, that was what he needed to do.