Chapter 43
Octavius's POV
The line went dead as Owen hung up, and that sports car was already peeling away.
I watched it disappear around the corner, this suffocating weight settling in my chest.
So Seraphine wasn't just throwing a tantrum.
She'd actually left with Zephyr.
Minutes ago, she'd followed me without hesitation. Now she couldn't even spare me a backward glance before jumping into another man's car.
"Drive."
The words came out through gritted teeth. "Follow them!"
My driver hesitated. "Mr. Capulet, didn't the butler just say you need to head back? If we chase after her, won't that delay—"
His reminder snapped me back to reality. Owen had said Nolan was waiting at the nursing home. I forced myself to swallow the urge to drag Seraphine back.
I tamped down the emotions clawing at my throat. "Take me to the nursing home."
Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up to the entrance.
The entire drive, my mind was somewhere else.
When I'd chased after her, I'd meant to ask why she'd handed her project to Brielle. But the second I saw her leaning against another man, rational thought went out the window. I'd completely forgotten what I'd come to say.
Inside the nursing home, Nolan sat in his study, reading glasses perched on his nose, expression serene as he thumbed through a book.
"Grandfather, you wanted to see me?"
I approached. His complexion looked decent enough.
He must've been resting well these past few days.
Nolan closed the book and removed his glasses, lifting his gaze to meet mine.
"According to the agreement I made with Seraphine, I need to tell you the truth."
"Your agreement with Seraphine?" I stepped closer, certain I'd misheard.
Nolan nodded. "That contract she never signed—I sent Owen to test her. Seraphine refused without hesitation. Said she'd earn the project on her own merit, wouldn't use any of your resources."
My brow furrowed. "Then why did I see a contract with her signature on it?"
"I had Owen prepare that. I decided you two needed to stop seeing each other. The damage Seraphine inflicted on you—that kind of pain, you'd never experienced before. How could I bear to watch you stay tangled up with that woman? So I took matters into my own hands."
Nolan released a weary sigh, as if second-guessing his choice.
"I didn't expect Seraphine to be so stubborn. She seems to have genuinely changed her temperament. Not as hostile as before."
"She came to me, willing to give up the project entirely—hand it to that sister of hers—just to clear her name."
The world tilted for a moment.
She hadn't signed it.
She'd sacrificed the project to prove her innocence.
So that's how it was.
My fists clenched as I thought of Seraphine showing up at my door last night, desperate to explain, only for me to shut her out.
Thought of how she'd downed drink after drink without hesitation, just to stay and make me listen.
Thought of the cruel things I'd said in the car, designed to wound her.
Something acidic and uncomfortable twisted in my chest.
"Grandfather."
I looked at the seventy-year-old man before me.
"I know you did all this because you care about me, but please—stop interfering between Seraphine and me. I can handle this. I won't let her hurt me again."
Nolan studied me with knowing eyes. "See? Even now, your heart's completely tangled up in her. You haven't stopped to consider that even if she genuinely wants to make amends, it's not because she has feelings for you."
"She's had an awakening, realized you're the one who truly treated her well. She wants to ease her guilt, that's all. If she were capable of loving you, she would've done it a long time ago."
I pressed my lips together, unable to find a counterargument.
Nolan spread his hands in a gesture of resignation. "You're better looking than Mitchell, wealthier, more powerful. You could give her the best life imaginable. And yet she wasn't moved, was she?"
I had no rebuttal.
Maybe Nolan was right. Maybe Seraphine was just trying to atone.
But regardless, I'd been wrong to accuse her.
After she broke off her engagement to Mitchell, she hadn't schemed against me once or done anything with ulterior motives.
That was enough.
"I'll handle this. It's my business. You focus on getting better."
Without waiting for a response, I turned and headed for the door.
Back in the car, I pictured Seraphine's drunken state.
Given her personality, she wouldn't go home and let Heath see her like that.
I dialed Ondine.
The phone rang endlessly before she picked up. She didn't sound surprised in the slightest, as if she'd been expecting my call.
"What do you want?"
"Where is Seraphine?" I fought to keep my voice level.
Ondine paused, her tone turning frosty. "Why would I tell you? You've already put her through hell. Let me tell you something, Octavius. Seraphine, she—"
"Ondine." I cut her off coldly, my patience evaporated. "Tell me where she is, or I can't guarantee your brother will be in one piece tomorrow."
A sharp intake of breath on the other end. Then, equal parts furious and resigned, "Octavius, you're insane! Fine, I'm scared of you, okay? She's at my place. Her stomach condition flared up and she passed out. She's on an IV right now, just fell asleep. Happy?"
Passed out? IV?
My grip tightened on the phone. I ended the call and headed straight for Ondine's apartment.
I made record time. Before I could ring the bell, someone inside heard me and opened the door.
Ondine's eye roll could've powered a generator, but she stepped aside to let me in.
"She's in the upstairs guest room."
I stood there in silence, uncertain whether I should go up. I didn't want to wake Seraphine.
Ondine crossed her arms and positioned herself in front of me. "Mr. Capulet, next time you feel like losing your temper, maybe check who you're aiming it at?"
"Sure, Seraphine screwed up in the past, but she's genuinely trying to make things right now! She wants to treat you well!"
"You know what she did today? She handed over her project just to clear things up with you. Then she went to that bar to find you, and you and your buddies made her jump through hoops!"
"And now? Her stomach's wrecked. Are you satisfied?"
Ondine's voice rose with each word, her filter completely gone.
"Honestly, I don't get you. Do you have to wait until Seraphine runs off with someone else before you—"
She caught herself mid-sentence, seeming to realize she'd gone too far. A flicker of apprehension crossed her face, like she feared my wrath.
But I couldn't spare the energy to care about her rant.
Every word she'd said—I couldn't argue with a single one.
No matter how badly Seraphine had treated me before, today's mess was entirely my fault.
I'd been too harsh, too quick to assume the worst, and I'd hurt her.
I climbed the stairs and pushed open the guest room door.
Inside, a single dim lamp cast shadows across the room.
Seraphine lay in bed, face ghost-pale, not a trace of color in her skin. One arm rested outside the covers, an IV needle feeding fluid into her vein.
She was asleep, but her brow remained furrowed, as if even her dreams brought no peace.
I crossed to the bed on silent feet and sat down beside her. That ache in my chest sharpened, turned bitter. Without thinking, I reached out and brushed away the damp strands of hair clinging to her forehead.
Watching her restless even in sleep, I murmured—to her, to myself, I wasn't sure which.
"Seraphine, what are you thinking?"
Pushing me away one moment, drawing closer the next.
Sometimes cold as ice, sometimes making me believe she actually cared.
Just then, Seraphine's lashes fluttered. Her frown deepened.
I tried calling her name.
"Seraphine."
At the sound of my voice, her eyes slowly opened.