Chapter 120
Chapter 120
The lavish corner office sat empty and cold.
Yvaine surveyed the vacant workspace, a chill settling on her lips. "Then raise the offer again. Tell them if they deliver results, the company won't let them down."
More hollow promises.
Her assistant kept her head bowed and murmured an acknowledgment.
Yvaine's poaching efforts weren't subtle. They were brazen—almost theatrical.
In her mind, with Ignatius behind her, luring away any talent she wanted was simply a matter of naming the right price.
---
Early the next morning.
Octavia walked in to find Finnian seething. When she learned the reason, she actually laughed.
Turns out, when something was absurd enough, laughter really was the only response.
"How can you laugh right now? Look—they've raised their offer again. And some of our people are starting to waver."
His fist hit the desk with a bang, fury written across every line of his face. "This is insane. Every industry has its unwritten rules. They're completely out of line—acting like we don't even exist."
The relentless poaching was a slap in the face. Plain and simple.
Octavia arched a brow. "Yvaine being outrageous isn't exactly breaking news. Why panic?"
Besides—trust the people you trust, and cut loose the ones you don't.
She'd reviewed every file on the AI development team. Multiple times. She already knew who was loyal and who wasn't.
"Let's focus on what's in front of us. Like Francis."
Giving him enough time to breathe, Octavia brought Finnian back to the Dixon Group at noon.
---
Francis's office.
Octavia laid everything on the table—sincerity on full display. "Mr. Dixon, take a look. This is our best offer. If there's anything you'd like adjusted, we're open to discussion. But certain terms are non-negotiable."
A thought struck her, and she smiled. "Mr. Dixon, in business, connections and backing matter. But let me remind you of something—Mr. Grimaldi is known as 'the cold-faced Yama.' He never lets personal feelings bleed into business. Ever. What's professional stays professional."
The warning landed softly but precisely.
Francis blinked. "You seem to know him well."
His gaze sharpened, eyes probing—as if trying to see through to something hidden.
Octavia smiled and didn't deny it.
Finnian picked up the thread. "Of course, he does make exceptions—for certain people. But do you really think you'd be one of them?"
They'd prepared for this moment carefully.
Time to plant the seed. Finnian cleared his throat. "If you don't believe us, test it yourself. You have a fashion brand under your umbrella, right? See if you can get it placed in the Grimaldi Emporium."
The Grimaldi family empire stretched across every conceivable industry.
Fashion, food, real estate, aviation, shipping, AI—if it existed, they had a stake in it.
The Grimaldi Emporium had stood for over a century, with flagship stores spanning multiple countries. Every brand on its shelves was elite. Francis's label, while established, simply didn't measure up to that tier.
He'd tried for years to get in. The answer had always been no.
Seeing the flicker of interest in his eyes, Octavia pressed on. "I'm not trying to sabotage your deal. But we're all businesspeople—profit comes first."
"Take some time. Weigh the pros and cons. I think you'll find we're your best option. We look forward to hearing from you."
She left it there—just enough, never too much—and walked out with Finnian.
---
In the car.
Finnian couldn't help laughing. "Just wait. Francis is going to come to us. And this time, we'll be the ones setting the terms."
Businessmen followed the money.
Partnerships had to benefit both sides.
Once Francis realized his current deal was all cost and no gain, he'd pull out. More than that—he'd come running back, begging for a deeper alliance.
Octavia's phone rang. She glanced at the screen, frowned slightly, but answered.
"Where are you? Why haven't you come home? I want the fries you make."
Holden's small voice came through the speaker.
If she listened closely, there was a stubborn edge to it.
Octavia steadied herself. "I've been really busy lately. I'll come make them for you when I can. Or I could make a batch and send them over—would that work?"
Long silence on the other end.
Click.
He'd hung up.
Octavia knew what that meant. It was Holden's signature move—hang up when angry.
Finnian glanced at her. "You okay?"
Octavia shrugged. "Of course. Work comes first."
---
Meanwhile.
Holden sat on the sofa with his arms crossed and his lips pushed into a pout.
Angry, he was the spitting image of Ignatius—radiating a don't-come-near-me aura that was startling in someone so small.
The housekeeper noticed and quietly slipped away.
"This is so annoying." Holden's irritation mounted. Hands on his hips, he announced, "I'm going to the office."
Before anyone could react, he was marching to the underground garage on his short little legs.
The driver stared. "Are you... going to see Mrs. Grimaldi?"
Holden said nothing. Just nodded.
The driver knew about the divorce proceedings and didn't dare act without permission. He sent a message to check.
No reply came.
The silence stretched too long. Holden's patience snapped. "What's the holdup? Do I need to report you and get you fired?"
The threat carried impressive weight for a child his size.
The driver started the car immediately.
---
Thirty minutes later, the car pulled up outside the office building.
But Holden didn't get out. He sat in the backseat, watching.
It was mid-afternoon—break time.
Yvaine came downstairs. When she spotted the familiar car, she quickened her pace. Seeing who was in the back seat, she paused—then broke into a radiant smile.
"Baby! What are you doing here? Did you come to see me?"
She opened the door, cupped Holden's face in her hands, and kissed his cheek. "I just started at a new office. Want to come see it? It's gorgeous."
Holden blinked in confusion. Before he could process what was happening, she'd taken his hand and led him inside.
He was porcelain-perfect—adorable in a way that turned every head in the room the moment he appeared.
"Who's this? A relative's kid? Or yours?"
"Oh my God, he's precious! Total little CEO vibes. You can tell he comes from money. Honestly, just looking at him makes my whole day better."
"Come on, introduce us—what's your relationship?"