Chapter 160

Chapter 160

Seraphine's POV

Hearing that timeline didn't surprise me at all.

Octavius had enormous influence. The Stewart family had once commanded immense influence, yet only after the investigation concluded and Heath stood before the court did that long-whispered claim finally feel unsettlingly accurate.
"Okay. I understand." I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was coming. "You don't need to see my father, do you? Whether he admits his mistakes or not, he'll face the consequences either way.“Let me go home and speak with him myself, just the two of us.” Despite everything, after all these years he had raised me, gratitude still lingered where resentment might have taken its place.

I needed to ask if he had any last wishes before going to prison—so I could help fulfill them.

No matter what Heath had done in the past, he'd never wronged me as a daughter. He had never withheld material things from me, nor had he always taken Amara and Brielle’s side. Between Heath and me, there had always been something genuine an unspoken, enduring bond of father and daughter.

Now that he was going to prison, I was the one hurting most.

Octavius watched me for a long time before speaking. "I have something to give you."

I looked at him, confused. "What is it?"

Octavius drew a bank card from his pocket and set it down in front of me with measured calm. “Everything I took from the Whitaker Group is on this, every last cent of your company’s funds.”
I looked at the card and nodded. "That's rightfully yours. But why are you giving it to me?"

Octavius's gaze grew sincere. "My revenge was never more than that to see the company built on the Stewart family’s legacy crumble, and to watch Heath taken away in handcuffs.”
He pressed the card into my hand. "But my feelings for you have always been real. Even if I used you at first, I still love you. I still want to marry you. Take this card. Use it to start a new life."

I lowered my gaze, my eyes fixed on the gold card resting between us. “Whether you choose to build something new or simply walk away with it…this money is yours. I want to prove to you that I have no ulterior motives." Octavius pressed my hand down, trapping the card firmly in my palm.

I looked at Octavius in shock and disbelief. I hadn't expected him to do something like this.

Without hesitation, I shook my head. “I can’t accept this, you don’t need to give it to me.” I slid the card back toward him, as though distance alone could make the refusal more absolute.

But Octavius insisted on pressing it back into my hand. "Take it. I just want to prove my sincerity to you. And I want to ask you something—no matter what grievances exist between your father and me, can we start over?"

I froze, disbelief flickering across my face as I looked at him. “You want to start over… with me?”

“Yes.” Octavius didn’t hesitate. The admission left him with a quiet, weary exhale, as though the words carried more weight than he could bear. “I can’t forget you.” I can't let you go. Let's be together."

I clutched the bank card, unable to say a word.

Octavius looked at me nervously. "What's wrong? Do you not agree? Or do you have concerns?"

I jolted back to myself and shook my head, emotions tightening into something I couldn’t quite untangle. “This money belongs to the Stewart family.” If you give it to me, I absolutely won't take it. Take it back."

I handed the card back to him, turned around, and pushed open the car door to get out.

Octavius caught my hand before I could pull away, his grip steady but not forceful. “You won’t take what I give you, and you keep pushing me away… does that mean you don’t even want to try again?”
My mind went blank. I'd never felt as exhausted as I did right now.

I turned back to look at Octavius. "That's not it. I just don't have the energy to think about this right now. I need to go home and see my father. And that villa—it was also bought with the first fortune the Whitaker Group earned using the Stewart family's resources. You should take that back too."

Octavius’s brows tightened in a faint frown. “And you, what will you do?”
“When my father is sent to prison, I’ll move out of that villa.” I tried to withdraw my hand, but his grip held firm, refusing to let go.
"What are your plans after that?" Octavius's brow furrowed tightly, his grip on my hand painfully strong.

I felt the ache and sensed how desperately he wanted to know what I'd do next.

I still smiled faintly at him. "My plans are my own business. I don't need to tell you."

"You—"

Octavius opened his mouth as if to speak again, but I cut him off, pulling my hand free. I stepped out of the car without looking back, flagged down a passing taxi, and disappeared into the traffic before he could say another word.
When I got home, the entire villa was empty.

Not a single one of the staff who usually bustled around was there.

Something felt off the moment I stepped inside.

Heath was sitting at the table, shoulders slumped, the weight of defeat etched deep into his posture like hope had quietly drained out of him long before I arrived.

My chest tightened. I walked toward him, each step heavier than the last. "Dad."

Hearing me call him, Heath slowly lifted his head.

He smiled at me, despair flickering in his eyes. "Now everything's gone. The company. The money. Soon this house will be gone too, won't it? It's all my own fault for doing wrong."
I let out a quiet sigh and took a seat across from him, filling a glass of water and sliding it gently toward him.
“Dad… Octavius says he’s going to sue you and have you sent to prison.” He says what happened back then wasn't just Upton's fault. Grandpa's gone. You've lived the high life all these years. He wants you to pay the price you should have paid."

Heath didn't even blink when he heard that.

He smiled, accepting it all with eerie calm. "I already knew he'd do that. I've been preparing myself."

Heath slowly straightened, a hollow calm settling over his expression. “Then prison it is,” he said flatly. “It makes no difference now. I’ve already lost everything. From company president to fighting just to survive… I might as well be behind bars.” At least I won't have to worry about going hungry. But... the one I'm most worried about is you."

He looked at me, and for the first time, something cracked through his composure concern, raw and unguarded.
Without a word, Heath reached into his pocket, drew out a bank card, and placed it in my hand. "This is money I saved. Not much. Including the assets I tried to transfer earlier, there's probably a few tens of millions of dollars in here. I haven't checked the exact amount."

I froze.

"Take it. It's enough to last you a lifetime. Though compared to the life you're living now, it'll be a lot less comfortable." Heath smiled at me, looking deeply uneasy about me living on my own.
I closed my fingers around the card, still faintly warm from his palm, my throat tightening as my vision blurred.
A sharp sting rose in my nose, and I blinked hard against it.
This this quiet, wordless gesture was his way of loving me, wasn't it?

He'd said he didn't want to live a life of struggle, but he'd kept this money aside.

If Octavius didn't sue him, if he didn't have to go to prison, he could still live well outside.

"Dad." My voice cracked. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? This isn't your fault. “I’m the one who dragged you into all of this,” I said, my voice tightening. “You’ve already done so much for me… you pulled me out of Amara’s grasp, you even saved me when I was poisoned.” I'm already grateful." Heath comforted me, his tone gentle. "Even though we're not blood-related, you're still my favorite daughter."

Hearing that made me cry even harder. "Dad, let me pack your things for you."

Heath gave a small, resigned nod and even managed a faint smile, then led the way upstairs without another word.
I followed and began packing his things expensive suits, carefully tailored jackets, and the watches lined neatly in his closet each item folding into the suitcase like fragments of a life being quietly put away.

"All the staff have gone home," Heath said, looking at the suits. "I won't need these anymore. If you can sell them secondhand online, do it. If not… just throw them away.”

His words landed with a quiet finality.

A wave of grief rose in my chest, sudden and heavy, stealing my breath for a moment. I kept my head down, not daring to look at him, afraid I'd break down.