Chapter 207

Chapter 207

Octavia and Monica attended the evening gala together. They only went back to change into formal gowns and didn't even grab dinner before rushing to the venue.

The banquet hall was ablaze with lights, buzzing with conversation. When Octavia walked in, quite a few eyes turned her way.

Some curious. Some scrutinizing. Some gleeful at her misfortune. And a few tinged with sympathy.

She didn't care. A polished smile graced her face as she moved forward at an unhurried pace.

Monica followed behind her. She'd attended plenty of events like this before, but back then all she had to do was be the Seymour Family daughter—pampered, adored, not a care in the world.

Things were different now. With Leopold gone, the weight of the Seymour Family rested on their shoulders. She had to learn to deal with these fake people, just like she'd done at the board meeting that afternoon.

"Mrs. Seymour, it's been too long." A middle-aged man approached with a wine glass, his face plastered with practiced sympathy and sorrow. "We've all heard about Mr. Seymour. Managing everything alone—that must be so difficult for you."

Octavia smiled faintly. "Thank you for your concern. We're doing everything we can to find him. I'm sure we'll have news soon."

The man nodded, exchanged a few more pleasantries, then moved on.

Monica stood nearby, watching Octavia handle these people. Every word was perfect. Every smile precisely calibrated.

She suddenly realized how little she'd truly understood Octavia before.

She'd thought Octavia was just some schemer, a con artist good at manipulating people. But now she saw that Octavia's capabilities went far beyond that.

"Mrs. Seymour, you made it?"

A familiar voice came from behind. Octavia turned to find Imogen standing a few steps away, lips curved in an ambiguous smile.

Several socialites flanked her, all watching Octavia with expressions that screamed they were here for the drama.

"Miss Obelon." Octavia nodded, her tone neutral.

Imogen approached, giving her a once-over.

"Mrs. Seymour, you've had such a rough few days—dealing with shareholders, handling reporters, looking after Monica. One person doing the work of three. Truly impressive."

She paused, her smile deepening. "Though I have to wonder—with Mr. Seymour's situation, is it still appropriate for you to call yourself Mrs. Seymour?"

Monica's expression darkened. She started to step forward, but Octavia held her back.

"Miss Obelon, my title isn't for you to decide. It's not even for me to decide." Octavia's tone remained calm. "As for whether it's appropriate—Seymour Family matters don't require your concern."

Imogen's smile didn't waver. "Mrs. Seymour, you're so tough. I just wonder how long that toughness will last."

"Miss Obelon, are you concerned about me, or about the Seymour Family assets?" Octavia met her gaze. "If it's me, then thank you—I'm doing fine. If it's the Seymour Family business, well, there's even less need to worry. The Seymours handle their own affairs."

Imogen faltered for a moment, her smile finally cracking.

She was about to respond when a male voice came from behind her.

"Octavia's right. The Seymour Family handles its own affairs. Outsiders don't need to concern themselves."

Octavia turned to see who it was—partly surprised, partly not.

Monica had already called out, a note of grievance in her voice. "Patrick, you finally decided to come home!"

Patrick arrived in formal attire, his hair trimmed shorter than before. He looked considerably more mature than when he'd left the country.

His complexion wasn't great—clearly he'd been traveling without rest—but his gaze was steady and resolute, his lips still curved in that gentle, courteous smile.

He moved to Octavia's side, facing Imogen with impeccable politeness. "Miss Obelon, it's been a while. Thank you for being so concerned about the Seymour Family."

He picked up a wine glass from a passing server's tray and raised it toward Imogen.

Imogen's expression flickered before she recovered her polished smile.

"Patrick, you're back? How was your time abroad?"

"Pretty good." Patrick set down his glass. "Though I missed home. I heard that while Leopold was away, someone was eager to take his place. So I rushed back. After all, unlike some families, we Seymours actually get along. Right? By the way, Miss Obelon, you're so well-informed—have you heard who this person trying to replace Leopold might be?"

Imogen's smile completely froze.

She glanced at Patrick, then at Octavia, said nothing more, and turned to leave.

Monica stood nearby, looking at Patrick with reddening eyes, not knowing what to say.

"Patrick..."

"Mm." This time Patrick's smile carried genuine warmth. He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind Monica's ear. "Don't be scared. I'm home now."

Monica held back tears and briefly hugged Patrick's waist, then quickly released him when she realized her foundation might smudge his suit.

Patrick chuckled at that, then turned to Octavia.

"Octavia."

Octavia saw the maturity in his eyes now and smiled. "It's good you're back."

Throughout the rest of the gala, people continuously approached with wine glasses, making small talk, probing for information.

Monica stood between Octavia and Patrick, watching them handle these people in perfect coordination. A complicated feeling she couldn't quite name welled up inside her.

She thought back to everything she'd done to Octavia before—cursing her, bullying her, trying to drive her out of the Seymour Family. She'd thought Octavia was the worst woman in the world, bewitching Leopold and destroying her family.

But now, with Leopold gone, Octavia stood at the very front of the Seymour Family, shielding them from every storm.

The thought made Monica want to cry again. She quickly sniffled, forced the tears back, and plastered on a smile.

After returning to the Seymour residence, Patrick didn't immediately go to his room. He stood in the living room and called out to Octavia.

"What's your take on today?" he asked.

Octavia sat down on the sofa, rubbing her temple. "The shareholders' patience is running thin. Several people at the gala were testing the waters. Lucas won't pass up such a good opportunity—he definitely has something else up his sleeve."

Patrick sat across from her. "Do you think Leopold can still come back?"

Octavia looked up at him.

Patrick's expression was serious—not testing or questioning, but genuinely asking her.

Even though he'd matured so much in such a short time, he was still Leopold's younger brother, the same age as Monica. At a time like this, he would be anxious too.

"Yes." Octavia said. "He promised me. He'll definitely come back."

Patrick studied her, silent for a moment. "You trust him that much?"

"He's never lied to me." Octavia said. "Not once."

Patrick lowered his head, staring at his fingers.

The living room fell quiet for a long while. He seemed to hear many sounds, yet actually heard nothing at all.

"I did a lot of terrible things to you before." Patrick spoke up, his voice low. "I always thought you came to the Seymour Family with ulterior motives. Later I learned you did have a purpose, but you're not a bad person."

Octavia said nothing.

"I'm sorry." Patrick raised his head to look at her. "For everything before—I never properly apologized to you."

Octavia looked at him, waiting a few seconds before offering a slight smile. "Now isn't the time for this. Let's handle what's in front of us first. I believe you can do it."

Patrick nodded and stood, walking a few steps toward the stairs before stopping.

"Octavia."

"Mm?"

"Thank you."

He didn't turn around. After speaking, he went upstairs.

Octavia sat on the sofa, watching his figure disappear around the staircase landing, then let out a long breath.

She pulled out her phone, opened the message thread, and stared at Leopold's last text. Like she'd done countless times over these past few days, she pressed the phone to her chest and closed her eyes.