Chapter 123

Chapter 123

The next morning.

Before heading to work, Octavia stopped by the Miller Villa.

Flynn's face tightened with shame the moment he saw her.

Octavia knew exactly what was going through his mind. She smiled. "It's fine. Business is business. Keeping personal feelings separate is how a family stays strong. I understand."

Her words only made Flynn look more uncomfortable.

Kenna stepped in at just the right moment. "Let's go to the study. I've already pulled out Mom's jewelry. We need to figure out our next move."

In the study.

Cleo had laid out not only the gifts from Mason and Ignatius but also many of her own treasured pieces.

Every jewelry box had been polished spotless—not a speck of dust. One glance told you how deeply she'd cherished these things over the years.

Ever since Xanthe married Jasper, the company had been hit with one crisis after another—targeted attacks, cash flow emergencies. To save the business time and again, Cleo had already sold most of her jewelry.

The few remaining pieces were more than keepsakes. They were precious to her.

Octavia's nose stung with emotion. "Are you sure about this? Maybe we should wait a little longer. In a few more days, my divorce settlement will come through—I can use that as collateral."

"Absolutely not. That money is your safety net for the future. The divorce settlement is yours, and you have a child to think about. We can't be that selfish."

Kenna was deeply moved by Octavia's willingness to help, but she wouldn't allow it.

Half an hour later.

A jewelry appraiser arrived at the house. His eyes lit up the moment he saw the collection.

"Are you certain you want to put all of these up as collateral? I'd strongly recommend selling outright. I can guarantee you the best prices on the market."

As a professional, he recognized immediately that these pieces had extraordinary provenance. Some were the kind of items that only surfaced at high-end auctions—truly priceless. The chance to acquire them was too good to pass up.

Octavia hesitated, but Kenna's tone was iron. "Enough. No sales pitch. Just appraise them. We're pledging collateral. Nothing is being sold."

Kenna knew full well that many of these had come from Ignatius and Mason. If they sold them and either man came asking, the fallout would be devastating.

The relationship between the two families still mattered. She refused to let these items damage Octavia's bond with Mason.

An hour later, the appraiser presented his valuation. Kenna took one look at the numbers and exploded.

"Are you kidding me? Look at these pieces—they're world-class. And this is what you're offering? Who are you trying to insult?"

Kenna was genuinely furious. He hadn't even offered a quarter of their true value.

The appraiser put on a pained expression. "This is standard industry practice. You see, with collateral, we're not buying—we're holding. The most we can do is display them. There's no real return on our end—"

His game was obvious. He was lowballing them to force a sale.

Octavia spoke up quietly. "Fine. We'll take it."

After the appraiser left with everything, Kenna's face was ashen.

"This isn't nearly enough. Maybe we should just sell after all?"

"Let me think it over. You don't really want to sell them, and neither does Grandma. Give me a little time. I still have some money of my own."

Time was running short. Octavia drove to the office. The elevator was out of order, so she took the stairs. As she reached the stairwell landing, a familiar voice echoed down the corridor.

"What is wrong with you people? Are you all useless? I've told you a hundred times—recruit them. Offer equity if you have to—"

"We understand your urgency, but equity alone is too uncertain for them. They want equity plus a competitive salary package, and what you're offering is too low—"

"We're a startup. What we need is grit and creativity. Once we deliver results and the company goes public, everyone profits. Why get hung up on salary? Talk to them again. We're partnering with Ignatius's company on this. The Grimaldi Group—surely they've heard of it?"

"Listen carefully. I don't care about anyone else. I want Octavia's people. Poach them. Do it fast. Or don't bother coming back."

The empty corridor amplified every word. Yvaine hung up, her chest heaving with frustration.

What she'd assumed would be a slam dunk had yielded zero progress in days.

Still fuming, she snatched up her phone again. "Find out what's going on with the Dixon Group. Why is everything falling apart? You have twenty-four hours. Fix it, or you're fired."

She took a deep breath, composing herself. She was about to walk away when a cold voice cut through the air behind her.

"What's this? Robbery becoming a habit? Or are you just like your mother—can't help stealing what belongs to other people?"

Yvaine flinched and spun around. Octavia's icy gaze pinned her in place. Caught red-handed, yet Yvaine didn't falter. Instead, contempt curled across her features.

"So what?"

"Everything I'm doing has one simple goal—to destroy you. I want to take everything you have and leave you with nothing. What are you going to do about it, now that I've said it to your face?"

"And eavesdropping in stairwells? How shameless can you get?"

A sharp crack echoed through the corridor. Yvaine's cheek burned like fire, rage flooding through her.

The moment she processed what had happened, her hand shot up to strike back.

It froze in midair—caught in Octavia's grip. The pressure was crushing, as if she meant to snap the bone.

Octavia, towering in her heels, shoved Yvaine against the cold wall. A contemptuous smile played at her lips. "Consider that a wake-up call."

"Let me be crystal clear. You want Ignatius? I couldn't care less. But if you come after my company, I will fight you to the bitter end. And the Miller Group—that was your doing too, wasn't it?"

Yvaine didn't deny it.

Octavia laughed. A laugh that never reached her eyes. "Good. So that's how you want to play it. Let's see who's left standing."

"Word is you're some kind of AI prodigy from overseas. But ever since you joined the project team, I have to say—the reputation doesn't quite hold up. You've never once delivered on time. Finnian's been tearing his hair out over it. Maybe I should do a little digging into your credentials abroad. What do you think?"

"That's ridiculous! My credentials are perfectly—"

"Relax. I'm just messing with you." Octavia's voice dropped, silky and lethal. "Then again, the fact that you're this defensive only proves one thing—you know I'm right. Don't get upset. The angrier you get, the weaker you look."

Octavia's red lips curved into a devastating smile. She stepped back, placing one hand on Yvaine's shoulder with a light, patronizing pat. "If you don't want people finding out, don't do it in the first place. You fired the first shot. Don't blame me for firing back."

"You and your mother—same playbook. Always relying on men. But as family, let me give you some free advice: men are the least reliable thing in the world. After all, Jasper's living proof. How far can you really get depending on a man who thinks with what's below his belt?"