The Twisted Obsession
Chapter 145: Funeral

Chapter 145: Funeral

As the day of her father’s funeral dawned, Abby felt a mix of emotions churning inside her. The weight of public scrutiny bore down on her, knowing that all eyes would be on her as she made her first public appearance since her father’s tragic death. The media had dubbed her the "infamous flower," poised to take over the Falcone empire, and the pressure was almost suffocating.

Remo stood by her side, offering a reassuring squeeze of her hand to calm her nerves. They had made the difficult decision not to attend the funeral together, opting instead to keep their relationship hidden from the prying eyes of the public for the time being. Abby would be accompanied by the female bodyguard Remo had provided, disguising herself as her friend to maintain her anonymity along with others.

As they prepared to leave for the funeral, Abby couldn’t shake off the sense of unease that gnawed at her insides. The thought of facing the scrutiny of the public without Remo by her side was daunting, but she knew that they had to proceed with caution if they were to protect their secret.

As Abby’s car pulled up to the grand entrance of the funeral venue, she was greeted by a swarm of reporters and flashing cameras. The air buzzed with anticipation as journalists jostled for position, eager to capture the first glimpse of the elusive heiress.

"Miss Falcone, over here!" one reporter called out, thrusting a microphone in Abby’s direction. "Can you tell us how you plan to honor your father’s legacy?"

Another reporter chimed in, "Is it true that you’ll be taking over the Falcone empire? How do you feel about the responsibility?"

Abby’s heart raced as she stepped out of the car, her bodyguard by her side, poised and alert. With each step, she felt the weight of the reporters’ questions bearing down on her, but she remained steadfast, determined to maintain her composure.

The bodyguards hired by Remo formed a protective barrier around Abby, their eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of danger. Despite the chaos and noise, Abby felt a sense of reassurance knowing that they were there to keep her safe.

As she made her way through the throng of reporters, Abby remained silent, refusing to dignify their questions with a response. Her silence only seemed to fuel their curiosity, and the reporters pressed in closer, their cameras flashing incessantly.

Suddenly, Abby felt a familiar hand on her shoulder, and she turned to see her uncle approaching with a smile plastered on his face. Despite the warmth of his greeting, Abby couldn’t shake off the sense of unease that gnawed at her insides.

Abby, darling, it’s so good to see you," her uncle said, his voice dripping with false sincerity. "Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Your father entrusted not only the company to me, but also his beloved daughter."

Abby forced a tight smile in return, her stomach churning at the sight of her uncle’s outstretched arms. She knew that his affection was nothing more than a facade, a charade meant to deceive the watching eyes of the reporters.

But for now, she played along, allowing her uncle to take center stage as he addressed the reporters. "Abby is in good hands," he declared, his voice oozing with self-importance. "I will take care of her, just as her father would have wanted. After all, she’s family."

Abby gritted her teeth, her fists clenched at her sides as she struggled to maintain her composure. Behind the facade of her uncle’s words lay a darkness that threatened to consume her, but for now, she bided her time, knowing that her moment of reckoning would come.

As they entered the private mourning room, Abby felt a sense of relief wash over her, grateful for the temporary reprieve from the prying eyes and probing questions outside. But her respite was short-lived, as her uncle’s facade of affection crumbled before her eyes.

As her uncle pulled away, Abby recoiled at the anger that flickered in his eyes, his words a harsh slap in the face. "You stupid child!" he scolded, his voice laced with venom. "After all I’ve done to take care of you and your father, you dared to run away? Your father is dead because of you!"

Abby’s heart pounded in her chest at her uncle’s accusation, the weight of his words crashing down on her like a ton of bricks.

Trembling with anger and disbelief, Abby met her uncle’s gaze with steely resolve. "My— father’s —death is not my— fault," she declared, her voice trembling with defiance. "And— you have— no right to blame me for your —own sins." She managed despite her stammering. She had gotten better around Remo that she had forgotten she stammered especially when she’s anxious.

Her uncle’s eyes blazed with fury at her words, but Abby stood her ground, refusing to cower in the face of his intimidation. She knew that her uncle’s true motives were far more sinister than he let on, and she vowed to uncover the truth, no matter the cost.

Her uncle’s eyes blazed with fury at her defiance, but before he could respond, Cage stepped forward, his presence a calming force in the midst of the storm.

"Enough," Cage interjected, his voice firm and unwavering. "This is neither the time nor the place for such accusations. We are here to mourn the loss of Mr. Falcone, not to assign blame."

Abby’s uncle shot Cage a venomous glare, but the warning in Cage’s eyes was enough to quell any further outbursts. With a final scowl in Abby’s direction, her uncle stormed out of the room, leaving behind an atmosphere charged with tension and unresolved anger.

As the door closed behind him, Abby let out a shaky breath, the weight of her uncle’s accusations still heavy on her heart.

"Are you okay?" Cage asked calmly, reaching out to gently hold Abby’s shoulders.

Abby nodded, her voice barely above a whisper as she replied, "Yeah, thank you."

Cage’s touch was a reassuring anchor in the midst of the storm, his steady presence a source of comfort as Abby struggled to regain her composure. With a grateful smile, she leaned into his touch, drawing strength from his unwavering support.

"Let’s focus on honoring your father’s memory," Cage said softly, his tone filled with empathy. "We’ll deal with everything else later."