Abigail Westbrooke-Shaw was the second eldest of Anton’s triplet daughters. Where Doreen was crass and Catlin was painfully shy, Abigail was sunshine in human form: outgoing, bubbly, and… unapologetically pink*.

Pink was her “happy color”, and she made sure the world knew it. Her wardrobe, her car, even the pens she carried were various shades of bubblegum, rose, and blush.

Though she belonged to the Blue faction through her father, she also had ties to the Brown faction through her husband, Adrian Shaw - Big Bonnie’s favorite nephew. But no matter the faction or the rules, Abigail stubbornly refused to give up her color. Because of her giddy, almost childlike personality, few people took Abigail seriously. That included her father. So when Anton called and asked her to fill in for Doreen until the weekend, she immediately knew something was wrong. By the time she arrived at her father’s house mid-morning, he was already in full rant inside his office, Mickey sitting stoically across the room. “Get in here, Abby!” Anton shouted the second she cracked the door. “Where the hell have you been? You should’ve been here by six at the latest.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” she said sweetly, slipping inside and closing the door behind her. “Binky called,” Anton said, skipping any further pleasantries. “He wants to meet tomorrow. He saw Don Jacob today.” Abigail’s stomach tightened. “I’m sure he mentioned the shipping mistake the other day. I only just heard about it myself.”

“Binky’s going to use it as an excuse,” Anton growled, his face hot with anger. “He’s going to try and back out on his word.” “We don’t know that for sure yet,” Mickey interjected calmly. “And the problem’s already been fixed.” Anton frowned as he shook his head. “I don’t like this. Not one fucking bit.” He turned to Abigail. “Clear your schedule. Binky’s always had a soft spot for you. You’re coming with me tomorrow.”

“Of course, Daddy,” she replied brightly, offering him her warmest smile. Anton jabbed a finger toward Mickey. “I want the two of you to hit every warehouse today. Check every shipment, every crew, every damn detail. The last thing I need is another fuck-up.”

“We’ll get right on it,” Mickey said, already moving toward the door. Abigail gave her father a quick, reassuring nod before following Mickey out. As the office door clicked shut behind them, she let out a small breath. Whatever storm was brewing, she’d do her best to keep her father’s world wrapped in pink - pretty, pleasant, and perfectly under control.