Chapter 125
Chapter 125
Mason let out a cold laugh. "You'd better mean it. If she lays another finger on Octavia, don't bother calling yourself my grandson."
Ignatius didn't respond. But that evening, alone in his study, he read the investigation report Octavia had sent him from beginning to end. Then he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his desk drawer, stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, and smoked for a long time.
Every cruel word he'd ever said to her came flooding back. Every time she'd tried to explain with reddened eyes and he'd cut her off with impatience. Every meal she'd carefully prepared that he'd ignored. Every late night she'd come home from work only to be met with his sarcastic jabs. Scene after scene crashed over him like waves.
He'd always believed she was the one who'd schemed her way into his life, who'd destroyed what he and Yvaine were supposed to have. He'd always believed she was calculating and manipulative. But the truth was an airtight web of lies—and she had been the most innocent person caught inside it.
He crushed out his cigarette and sent his assistant a single directive: [Terminate all partnerships with every company under Yvaine's name. Including all projects already in negotiation.]
The assistant read the message three times before daring to reply. After all, Ignatius had held multiple executive meetings to help Yvaine launch her company. He'd even made concessions to partners on certain deals. The entire company had been buzzing with whispers that Yvaine was the future Mrs. Grimaldi.
Now, a full stop. A direct order from Mr. Grimaldi himself. The assistant didn't dare ask questions. He simply carried it out.
---
The next morning, Yvaine's world detonated.
She'd barely arrived at her new office when a barrage of emails flooded her inbox—every single one identical in substance. All pending partnerships, terminated. Reason cited: 'strategic restructuring.'
At first she assumed it was a misunderstanding, some partner getting cold feet. Then her assistant, voice shaking, delivered the final blow: "The Grimaldi Group has also issued a formal termination notice."
Yvaine froze where she stood, as if struck by lightning.
Her first instinct was to call Ignatius. The phone rang for a long time before he picked up. His voice was perfectly calm. Calm to the point of being devoid of any warmth.
"Don't contact me again."
Yvaine's voice trembled. "Ignatius, what are you talking about? We had a plan. Once the divorce was finalized, we were going to—"
"Yvaine." He cut her off. "I know what happened back then."
Dead silence on the other end.
After what felt like an eternity, Yvaine's voice came out hoarse. "What do you know?"
"Everything." He hung up.
Yvaine stood clutching her phone, the color draining from her face inch by inch. Her entire body went cold, as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. She dialed again, frantic. No answer.
She sank into her chair, fingers clamped white-knuckled around the armrests, nails digging into the leather hard enough to break skin. It took a long time before she could move. She grabbed her bag and bolted for the door. She had to see Ignatius face to face. She had to explain. She couldn't let him shut her out like this.
She never made it past the lobby.
The security guards at the Grimaldi Group headquarters stopped her with polite professionalism. Mr. Grimaldi had left instructions: Ms. Lavien was no longer welcome.
Yvaine stood outside the building, staring up at the glass revolving doors. Sunlight glinted off the surface, sharp enough to sting her eyes. People streamed past, casting curious glances her way. She clenched her jaw, turned on her heel, and threw herself into her car. She floored it all the way back to the Lavien Villa.
---
Jasper showed no sympathy when he saw her walk in. Not a trace. He opened with blame.
"What the hell did you do? The Grimaldi family has already put the word out—they're cutting all ties with the Lavien family. Do you have any idea how much business I've lost?"
Yvaine stared at the man she'd called Dad for over twenty years, eyes burning red. Suddenly, the absurdity of it all hit her. She screamed back at him.
"Something goes wrong and all you do is yell at me? You're the one who got me those drugs back then! If you hadn't taught me to do all of this, I wouldn't be in this mess!"
Jasper's face cycled between ashen and livid. He dropped his voice to a hiss. "Have you lost your mind? Keep your voice down!"
Thora came running downstairs, watching father and daughter tear into each other, stamping her feet in helpless agitation. But she was useless here. She'd already lost all influence with Xanthe.
Ever since the incident where she'd shown up at the company with security guards and Octavia had shut her down, Xanthe had been in an uproar at home for days. She'd called Octavia—no answer. She'd gone to find her in person—blocked by security at the door. Cleo had issued her own ultimatum: if Xanthe dared harass Octavia again, she wouldn't be allowed through the family's front door.
The Lavien household was in complete chaos. And Yvaine—the architect of it all—had finally, truly panicked.
She turned it over and over in her mind. In the end, she decided to play her last card.
Holden.
In her eyes, the boy was her final ace. He'd always been simple-hearted, genuinely attached to her. If she could win Holden over, Ignatius would eventually soften.
What she didn't know was that Holden had been changing too.
---
Ever since the day he'd come home crying from Octavia's apartment, something in Holden had shifted. Like he'd been hit over the head with something he couldn't shake. He talked less. He stopped acting out.
Ignatius found time to take him to the Grimaldi Manor to visit Mason. The old man was sitting in the garden, soaking up the sun. He called the boy over, ruffled his hair, and asked gently, "Holden, tell me the truth. What do you really think? Do you think your mom is good to you?"
Holden stared at the ground for a long time without speaking.
He wanted to say no. Because Mom was never home. Because every time she called, all she asked was whether he'd eaten and whether he'd finished his homework. Because Yvaine told him his mother never really wanted him.
But then he remembered that afternoon—crouching outside the apartment building for three hours until Octavia opened the door and saw him standing there. The look in her eyes. That raw, aching tenderness. He remembered her arms pulling him close, trembling slightly. He remembered her kneeling in the kitchen making him fries, wearing that faded old apron.
He bit his lip. His voice came out small and muffled. "Mom's... actually pretty okay."
Mason smiled and didn't push further.
Later, back in his room, Holden opened his smartwatch and scrolled to his chat with Octavia. The last message was from three days ago—she'd asked if he wanted to go to an amusement park over the weekend. He'd been too stubborn to reply.
He stared at the message for a long time. Then, clumsily, he typed a single word and hit send.
[Okay.]
---
Octavia was in a conference room with Kenna when the notification came through. She glanced down at her screen, and the corner of her mouth curved up—just barely, involuntarily. She placed her phone facedown on the table and continued the meeting as if nothing had happened.
But Kenna caught the flicker of warmth at the edge of her eyes. After the meeting, she leaned in and whispered, "The little guy finally came around?"