Chapter 128
Chapter 128
He closed the video and reached into the deepest corner of his drawer. His fingers found the card—the one he'd tucked into an unsigned bouquet of flowers that day. The words were in his own handwriting. Just one line: [You deserve every good thing.]
He stared at it for a long time. Then he put it back, turned off the light, and walked out of the study.
---
The next morning, he went to work and sat through his usual early meeting. During lunch, he called Holden's teacher. The school had a parent-child activity that weekend. He was coming.
The teacher paused on the other end. "Mr. Grimaldi, haven't you always sent your assistant for these?"
Ignatius was quiet for a moment. "From now on, I'll come myself."
The teacher said of course, of course.
---
That Saturday, Ignatius showed up in casual clothes. He played games with Holden on the school field, helped him make a poster, ran the parent relay race. Holden kept stealing glances at him like he couldn't quite believe it. After the relay, drenched in sweat, he looked up at his father with a grin splitting his face. "Dad, you're actually pretty fast."
Ignatius ruffled his hair. "Obviously."
They crouched together at the edge of the field, drinking water, when Holden said quietly, "Dad, I wish Mom could've come too."
Ignatius's hand stilled. Then, softly: "Next time, we'll invite her."
Holden's eyes lit up—then dimmed just as quickly. He mumbled, barely audible, "But you guys are divorced, aren't you?"
Ignatius didn't answer. He just reached over and pulled his son's shoulder close.
---
Octavia wasn't at the activity. She was out of town on business. Kenna forwarded the photos later—Ignatius with Holden the entire day, both of them laughing. Octavia looked at Holden's beaming little face in the pictures and felt something loosen in her chest.
She told Kenna, "It's good that he's spending more time with him."
Kenna pressed further. "And you two? Is there still a chance?"
Octavia set her phone down. She gazed out the hotel window at an unfamiliar city skyline and thought for a while. "Being friends is already more than enough."
Kenna sighed and didn't ask again.
---
Six months later, Octaven Ventures closed its Series A round. Valuation nearly tripled.
Octavia and Finnian stood in their newly leased office, watching the contractor mount the company logo above the entrance. Neither spoke. They just stood there like idiots, staring at it. Then Finnian broke the silence. "Should we throw a party?"
Octavia nodded, smiling. "Absolutely. Get the whole team."
The celebration drew a crowd. Kenna brought Cleo. Flynn came. Even Finnian's parents flew in from out of state. Cleo was in good spirits, wearing a burgundy sweater, perched on the sofa watching the young people carry on, laughing until she nearly fell over.
Octavia moved through the room with a glass of juice, and suddenly her nose stung. She remembered that freezing night on the steps of the Grimaldi Villa. Dragging her suitcase alone through empty streets in the dark. The gray dawn light outside the project office after pulling yet another all-nighter. All those moments she thought she'd never survive—looking back now, they'd become something like medals.
After everyone left, she sat alone on the balcony. Her phone buzzed. A voice message from Holden. She tapped it open—his small, sleepy voice: "Mom, was the party fun? I'm super tired so I'm going to bed, but I wanted to say goodnight."
She listened to it three times. Then she replied with a "Goodnight" and a kiss emoji.
The moon hung overhead, full and bright. She tilted her head back and looked at it, and suddenly remembered a night years ago. She'd come home late from work, and Ignatius was sitting in the living room reading documents. Without looking up, he'd asked, "You're back this late—did you eat?"
It was one of the rare moments of concern he'd shown her after she married into the Grimaldi family. Her heart had leapt with surprise and hope. She'd answered carefully, "I ate." And then—nothing. He never said another word.
Back then, she'd believed that if she just tried hard enough, was good enough, she could eventually warm that cold heart. She understood now. Some hearts weren't cold by nature. They simply chose not to be warm toward her.
But none of that mattered anymore.
She glanced at the time on her phone. Nearly midnight. She had a product launch to attend first thing in the morning. She stood, stretched, went inside, and closed the balcony door behind her.
---
Octaven Ventures grew faster than even Octavia had anticipated. Less than a year after Series A, they closed Series B. The team expanded from seven or eight people to over fifty. Their office went from two cramped rented rooms to an entire floor of a high-rise. Finnian handled R&D; Octavia handled market expansion and strategy. They worked together seamlessly, and their reputation in the industry grew steadily.
One day, Octavia attended an industry forum as a keynote speaker. Her topic: how AI technology could empower digital transformation for small and mid-sized businesses. The applause when she finished was thunderous. Afterward, people lined up to exchange cards and add her on social media. She smiled and accepted each one graciously.
As she turned to leave, she spotted someone at the bend in the corridor.
Ignatius stood there in a dark gray tailored overcoat, his assistant beside him. He looked the same as always—that refined, aloof bearing—but the way his eyes settled on her was noticeably softer.
Their gazes met for a beat. Octavia spoke first. "Small world."
Ignatius said, "Not that small. I heard you were speaking here today."
She smiled. "You're at the forum too?"
"A partner company is here. I stopped by." He paused, then added, "The speech was excellent."
"Thanks." She accepted the compliment easily, checked her watch. "I've got another meeting. I should go."
He didn't stop her. But after she'd taken a few steps, his voice came from behind. "Octavia."
She stopped and turned.
A brief silence. Then: "The way you are now—it suits you."
Octavia looked at him. Her lips curved. "I know."
She turned and walked down the corridor, her heels clicking crisp and even against the marble floor. Step by step. Steady and sure.
Ignatius watched her back until she disappeared around the corner. Only then did he look away. His assistant ventured carefully, "Mr. Grimaldi, the afternoon meeting with the partner—"
"Let's go." He turned and walked the opposite direction.
---
After that, they'd occasionally cross paths at public events. Each time—a nod, a smile, a few polite words. Courteous and natural, like two people who'd simply found the right distance.
Once, for Holden's birthday, Octavia and Ignatius both took him to dinner. The three of them sat in a restaurant with a big cake on the table. When Holden leaned forward to make his wish, he cracked one eye open and peeked at both of them—then squeezed it shut again in a hurry.