Chapter 116
Chapter 116
No dramatics. Octavia opened the first-aid kit again, took out the ointment, and crouched down to tend to the wound with careful precision.
"The partnership isn't just about personal connections. It's about long-term strategic growth."
His rough voice drifted down from above her.
Octavia's hands stilled.
What was he doing? Explaining himself?
A bitter smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
As head of the family, Ignatius did things his own way—never consulting anyone, never explaining. This was probably just him filling the silence.
But why bother with pointless talk? A waste of time.
Her sour mood betrayed her. Without realizing it, she pressed harder.
"Ss—"
Ignatius sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.
Octavia caught herself immediately. "My mistake."
She finished quickly after that, her hands swift and efficient.
"It's late. I should go. We can talk about anything else later." She paused at the door. "Oh—once the asset transfer is complete, we can finalize the divorce. Just call me when everything's arranged."
The truth was out now. Mason already knew. Octavia made up her mind—best to leave quickly.
But she'd say goodbye to Mason first.
---
The study.
Only minutes had passed, yet Mason seemed to have aged years.
Octavia walked over, circled behind his chair, and rested her hands on his shoulders, kneading gently.
"You need to take better care of yourself. The doctor said early to bed, early to rise, regular exercise. And watch your diet—cut back on the cigars and whiskey."
"You've been so good to me all these years. I won't be your granddaughter-in-law anymore, but I can be your granddaughter instead. Isn't that even better? I'll visit you often. I promise."
Mason let out a soft laugh tinged with resignation.
"You've always been like this. The first time I met you, you looked so fragile—but I knew right away you had a spine of steel."
A family like theirs didn't bring in a bride without doing their homework. Mason had investigated Octavia's background thoroughly before they ever met.
She'd grown up alone with her mother, raised in circumstances that would have broken most people.
A young girl shouldering her mother's emotional burdens while pushing herself to excel—that kind of resilience was rare, even among the elite.
It was precisely that quality that made Mason champion the marriage. He'd hoped his grandson would gradually be softened by her quiet strength.
But Ignatius didn't have that kind of luck.
Mason opened the safe and pressed a wooden box into Octavia's hands. "Don't refuse. This is my gift to you. When Holden gets married someday, pass it on to him."
"It's a family heirloom, handed down through generations. And remember this—no matter what happens, this old man will always have your back. If the sky falls, I'll be there to hold it up. Come to me anytime."
The box felt like it burned in her hands. But she didn't refuse.
She'd come in Yvaine's car. Going home, she had no choice but to ask the butler to arrange a driver.
The night was pitch black. Octavia's thoughts churned in the darkness.
---
Meanwhile.
A hospital room.
Thora's face was livid when she learned what Yvaine had done.
"Have you lost your mind? How many times have I told you—don't pull stunts like this! What if Ignatius decides you're manipulative?"
Finding out that Yvaine had dragged Octavia along to watch the spectacle—and then had the audacity to show up right next to Mason—Thora was ready to explode.
She'd been around long enough to know the truth. Ignatius remained fixated on Yvaine precisely because she was unattainable. Proud, aloof, never competing or grasping. But if that mystique shattered—if he saw through the illusion—what happened when the fascination wore off?
Yvaine waved off the concern. "Relax. I know what you're thinking. Everything I did was to make Octavia understand exactly where she stands—and to remind her why she was able to marry into that family in the first place."
She glanced around the room, walked to the door, and pulled it firmly shut against eavesdroppers.
"I've done some digging. Assets are already being transferred. In other words, after the divorce, Octavia will be rich. Richer than our entire family. Are you just going to sit here and watch that happen?"
A mother always knows her child.
Seeing the raw ambition blazing in Yvaine's eyes, Thora understood. "Fine. Let's hear it. What's your plan? Going to snatch all that money for yourself?"
"Obviously." Yvaine said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Why should those people walk away with that kind of fortune? Besides, the Miller Group is on its last legs. They've managed to neutralize every trap I set time and again, but the firm can't survive for long."
The Miller family had been a thorn in the Lavien family's side for years. As far as Yvaine was concerned, it was long past time to deal with them.
The money in Octavia's hands was critical. If it flowed into the Miller Group, taking down the Miller family would become far more difficult.
And to Yvaine, everything Ignatius had should belong to her—or to their future children.
Why should Octavia benefit?
Every dollar of Octavia and Ignatius's shared assets felt like flesh carved from Yvaine's own body.
"A newly rich woman always attracts attention. We've done this before—we can do it again. Find another man, trap Octavia back in the house having babies, keep her quiet and compliant."
Better yet, they could use other means to drain the money right out of Octavia's hands.
While Yvaine schemed to claim Octavia's assets, Jasper—family through and through—was thinking along the exact same lines.
---
The living room.
Octavia took in the scene: Jasper perched on her sofa, greed written across his face, and beside him Xanthe—gazing at him adoringly, eyes never leaving him, cheeks flushed with infatuation.
Octavia's head throbbed.
"It's late. What do you want? I have work tomorrow."
No one shows up at your door this late without wanting something.
The moment they'd appeared, Octavia knew their game. Her irritation sharpened.
Sensing the frost in her tone, Jasper cleared his throat awkwardly and shifted his gaze to Xanthe.
One look between them and Xanthe lit up like a schoolgirl with her first crush—blushing, bashful, beaming.
Octavia could barely stand to watch. She cleared her throat. "Is there something you actually need? I have work in the morning. And if you have this much free time, maybe spend some of it visiting Cleo? She moved to the care facility recently. She's recovering there, but she misses you."