Chapter 126
Chapter 126
Octavia nodded, her voice noticeably lighter. "Taking him to an amusement park this weekend."
Kenna smiled. "Good. A mother and son can never stay mad at each other for long."
---
That Saturday, Octavia cleared her entire schedule. She drove to the Grimaldi Villa early to pick up Holden. When she arrived, he was already dressed and waiting by the front door—blue windbreaker, little backpack strapped on. The moment he spotted her car, he jogged over, pulled open the door, and climbed in. His fingers fumbled with the seatbelt.
Octavia reached over and adjusted the strap for him without a word.
They'd been driving for a while when Holden suddenly spoke. "Mom."
"Hmm?"
"Yvaine called me."
Octavia's grip tightened on the steering wheel, but her face betrayed nothing. "What did she say?"
Holden tilted his head, thinking. "She said Dad doesn't want her anymore. She said it's all because of you. She said you're a bad person."
Octavia was quiet for a few seconds. Then, softly: "And what do you think? Do you think I'm a bad person?"
Holden didn't answer right away. His small hands twisted the straps of his backpack. A long moment passed before he spoke. "She used to say you didn't love me. But that night you held me and cried... I think she was lying."
Octavia's eyes went red instantly. She turned her face toward the road, waiting until her voice was steady again. "Some of what Yvaine says is true. Some of it isn't. I don't want to say bad things about her. But I want you to know one thing—no matter what anyone tells you, I will always love you."
Holden made a small sound of acknowledgment. Then he reached into the door compartment, pulled out a tissue, and handed it to her. His tone was awkward, almost gruff. "Don't cry. I can totally see you."
Octavia laughed despite herself. She took the tissue, dabbed her eyes, and pulled into the amusement park lot. She turned to face him. "Today, we're not thinking about any of that stuff. Just you and me, having the best day ever."
Holden nodded hard.
They rode the roller coaster. They watched the aquarium show. They ate overpriced, thoroughly mediocre burgers. They rode the Ferris wheel together.
At the very top, Holden pressed his face against the glass and peered down at the world below. Then he turned around. "Mom, are you gonna find a new dad?"
Octavia blinked, caught off guard. Then she smiled. "If the right person comes along, sure."
Holden considered this with deep seriousness. "He has to pass my inspection first. If he's not good enough, I'm vetoing him."
Octavia doubled over laughing. She pulled him close and ruffled his hair. "Deal. You're the boss."
The setting sun poured through the Ferris wheel window, merging their shadows—one big, one small—into a single silhouette. Octavia took dozens of photos that day. Later, she set one as her phone wallpaper: Holden grinning wide, both front teeth on full display.
---
After Yvaine's call to Holden, she waited two full days for a response that never came. Her messages vanished into silence. Her calls were either declined or went unanswered.
When she'd exhausted every option, she went crawling back to Thora.
Thora was out of the hospital by then. The wound on her face had mostly healed but left a faint scar. She looked worn down, aged. She assumed her daughter had come to comfort her.
Instead, Yvaine stormed in, threw her bag onto the couch, and announced through tears that Ignatius had cast her aside.
Thora listened to the whole story, fury and panic warring on her face. She jabbed a finger at Yvaine's nose. "I told you—I told you not to play those games! You wouldn't listen! And now look—you've lost everything!"
Yvaine crouched on the floor, face buried in her hands, sobbing. "What am I supposed to do? I have nothing left. The investors pulled out. Every project is dead. Dad won't even help me—"
Thora stared at her daughter's crumpled form. Flesh and blood was flesh and blood. Anger and heartache tangled inside her until she finally gritted her teeth. "Maybe... you should go to Octavia. Apologize."
Yvaine's head snapped up, disbelief written across her face. "You want me to apologize to her? She doesn't deserve it!"
"Whether she deserves it doesn't matter anymore. What matters is you've got no other road left." Thora sighed. "That girl has a soft heart. If you go beg her, she might not destroy you completely."
Yvaine bit her lip and said nothing. But that night, she tossed and turned for hours before finally picking up her phone and dialing Octavia's number.
---
Octavia was in the shower when the call came through. When she stepped out, she found several missed calls—all from the same number. She didn't call back. She simply set the phone aside and toweled off her hair.
A few minutes later, a text arrived: [Octavia, can we talk? I know I was wrong. Just give me a chance.]
Octavia looked at the message. The corner of her mouth twitched. Then she locked the screen and tossed the phone onto the nightstand.
No reply. No block. She simply acted as if she'd never seen it.
She knew exactly what Yvaine's version of 'sorry' looked like. It always came with strings attached. She wasn't falling for it again.
---
The next morning, Yvaine was waiting outside the office building.
She wore a subdued gray trench coat. No makeup. Her face was pale and drawn—a ghost of the polished, imperious Lavien heiress she'd been before. When she saw Octavia approaching, she rushed forward to grab her arm.
Octavia sidestepped her effortlessly.
"Say what you need to say. Right here." Octavia stopped walking. Her tone was flat.
Yvaine bit her lip. Her eyes glistened. Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I know I was wrong. Could you... talk to Ignatius? Ask him not to be so ruthless?"
Octavia looked at her and almost laughed.
Even now. Even at rock bottom. Yvaine had come to her for Ignatius.
She shook her head. "Yvaine, you still don't get it. What you lost isn't Ignatius. It's yourself. Everything you did—every single thing—was your own choice. Nobody forced you."
Yvaine stood frozen, unable to form words. Octavia didn't wait for a response. She turned on her heels and walked into the building.
---
That afternoon, Dwayne called Octavia in for a meeting. The middle-aged executive maintained his usual no-nonsense demeanor, though his tone was noticeably warmer than before.
"It's official. The OriginWorld project has entered final review. As a core team member, you'll be receiving a special commendation from the institute. Additionally, the National Technology Research Institute has sent over a formal offer—they'd like you to serve as an honorary consultant."
Octavia took the offer letter and leafed through it. Something stirred inside her. She understood the weight of that title—honorary consultant at the National Technology Research Institute. But after a moment's hesitation, she closed the letter and set it on the desk. "I need some time to think about it."
Dwayne didn't push. He simply told her the offer had no expiration date—she could accept whenever she was ready.
Octavia thanked him and left. When she returned to her workstation, she found Finnian spinning circles in her chair.
"What's this? The busiest man alive has time to visit me?" She grinned.
Finnian hopped up, his expression unusually serious. "I've been thinking about something. Hear me out."
"Go ahead."
"OriginWorld is wrapping up. We've built up all this experience and tech. Have you ever thought about going out on your own?"
Octavia raised an eyebrow.