Chapter 127
Chapter 127
Finnian leaned forward. "The AI applications market has a massive gap right now. Tons of small and mid-sized businesses want in but can't afford it. We could build lightweight solutions tailored for them—keep costs low, pack in the functionality. The market potential is huge."
Octavia went quiet, her mind racing through data points and projections. Then she looked up at Finnian, eyes bright. "You're serious?"
"When am I ever not serious?"
Octavia held out her hand. "Then here's to a great partnership."
Finnian slapped his palm against hers. "To a great partnership."
---
From planning to registration to hiring, the new company came together in under two months. Octavia barely had time to breathe—days spent chasing clients, investors, and office space; nights devoted to business plans and technical architecture documents. She rarely closed her laptop before two in the morning.
But strangely, she never felt tired. Every day she woke up energized, like she had a fire inside her that wouldn't burn out.
Kenna would text her late at night asking if she'd gone to bed. Octavia always replied with a photo of herself holding a coffee mug. Kenna, worried sick, had several cases of milk delivered to her door with a handwritten note: [Coffee wrecks your stomach. Drink milk.]
Octavia laughed out loud when she read it. She lined the cartons neatly in her fridge, then went right back to work.
She never let things slip with Holden either. Three video calls a week, never missed. Every weekend she wasn't traveling, she spent with him—even if it was just grabbing a bowl of noodles or taking a half-hour walk around the neighborhood.
Holden went from stiff, reluctant small talk to rattling off everything the moment the call connected. His seatmate stole his eraser again. He came in first during the PE sprint. He aced another test. That little note of pride and eagerness in his voice made Octavia's chest glow warm every time.
One night, right before hanging up, Holden suddenly asked, "Mom, what's your new company called?"
Octavia thought for a moment. "Haven't decided yet. Got any ideas?"
Holden tilted his head and thought hard for a while. Then, very seriously: "How about 'Octaven Ventures'? Your Octavia, my Holden."
Octavia stared at the screen. Then a smile broke across her face. "Done. Your call."
Just like that, the company had its name.
---
Ignatius found out at a business dinner. He stood in a corner nursing a glass of wine when an executive from a partner firm mentioned it casually: "I hear Ms. Lavien recently started a company. Interesting name—'Octaven Ventures.' Something to do with her son, right?"
Ignatius's fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around his glass. His expression didn't change. He gave a quiet "Mm."
That night, he came home and stepped into Holden's room. The boy was already asleep, a faint smile lingering on his face, arms wrapped around the stuffed bear Octavia had bought him at the amusement park. Ignatius stood by the bed for a long time. He reached down, gently tucked the blanket around his son, then quietly left the room.
Back in his study, he sat down and opened a drawer. Inside lay a document he'd never thrown away—the first draft of the divorce agreement his lawyer had drawn up years ago. It stated that all Grimaldi family assets were unrelated to Octavia, that full custody belonged to the Grimaldi family, and that the settlement was three million dollars.
He stared at those lines for a long time. Then he fed the document into the shredder.
The machine's grinding hum was sharp in the quiet night. Paper confetti drifted into the waste bag, piece by piece—as if five years of prejudice and cruelty were being ground to dust along with it.
---
The next morning, he sent Octavia a message: [If Octaven Ventures needs resources or connections, I can help.]
Octavia was in a coffee shop pitching to an investor when she saw it. She glanced at the screen and didn't reply. After the investor left, she sat for a moment, thinking. Then she typed back: [Thanks, but I'm good for now.]
She wasn't being petty. She genuinely didn't need it. Everything she wanted, she intended to earn on her own.
---
Three months after launch, Octavia landed her first official client—a mid-sized traditional manufacturing company. The owner was a woman in her fifties who'd never touched AI technology in her life and had come in with zero expectations.
Octavia personally led the team on-site for a full assessment. She came back and pulled three consecutive all-nighters to produce a customized solution covering everything from production line optimization to end-to-end inventory management. The owner reviewed the proposal and signed on the spot. Three-year contract.
It was the happiest day since Octavia started the company.
She stood outside the factory doors, watching the machines begin running on the new system, and felt a deep, solid sense of satisfaction settle into her bones. She video-called Holden, holding up her phone so he could see the massive facility behind her. "See that? Your mom just closed a big deal today."
On the other end, Holden's eyes curved into crescent moons. "Mom, you're awesome!"
That night, Octavia collapsed into bed without even showering, too exhausted to move. But the smile never left her lips. She pulled out her phone, scrolled to the Ferris wheel photo in her camera roll, and looked at it for a long time. Then she set it as her Instagram background.
---
The days marched forward—full and steady.
The day the OriginWorld project officially passed final review, Octavia was invited to the National Technology Research Institute for the awards ceremony. She stood on stage receiving her medal, looking out at an audience filled with industry heavyweights—some whose names she'd only seen in textbooks.
She glanced down at the crowd, and it hit her all at once: the sheer distance she'd traveled to reach this moment. Every day of being misunderstood, ignored, dismissed—they'd all become steps beneath her feet. Not one had been wasted.
Reporters swarmed her afterward, asking about her feelings and future plans. Octavia held the microphone, paused briefly, and said: "I'd like to say something to the person I was ten years ago. Thank you for not giving up. Every hardship passes. Everything you fight for will mean something."
The clip was picked up by industry news outlets and spread across social media. Most people didn't know who she was. They were simply moved by those words. The comments section filled with messages of encouragement.
---
That evening, Ignatius sat in his study and watched the interview three times.
He watched her standing on that stage—tailored suit, hair swept back in a clean updo, eyes calm and certain. She was a completely different person from the woman who'd stood in the Grimaldi Villa living room five years ago while her own son called her a bad mother.