Chapter 32 What is Octavio doing with her?
At the end of the day, Katherine waited at the gate. Two minutes later, Octavio's tall, striking figure appeared.
He smiled, having recovered from his embarrassment. “What would you like to eat today?”
“Something spicy,” she replied without hesitation.
“What a coincidence! I love chili peppers. I know the perfect place.”
Katherine glanced at him, a slight smile curving her lips. He was trying too hard, and that was kind of funny.
The two walked together to the shopping area in front of the school.
The restaurant Octavio had chosen was no ordinary diner. It was a fine dining establishment catering to the student elite. The air conditioning smelled of lavender, and soft jazz played in the background.
As they entered, the contrast was immediate.
The place was packed with heirs and heiresses. Hermès and Chanel bags rested on the tables like trophies; gold watches sparkled under the crystal chandeliers. Everyone there exuded money.
Katherine's entrance was like a discordant note in a perfect symphony.
Her clothes were simple, without flashy logos, a mix of comfortable pieces that, in the eyes of that frivolous audience, screamed “poverty.”
All eyes turned to her instantly. There was doubt, exclusion, and judgment in every pair of eyes.
But when they noticed Octavio beside her, the doubt turned into something worse: contempt.
The whispers began. “What is Octavio doing with her?” “She must be just another pretty face.” “Look at her clothes... she's clearly trying to pull a scam.”
To them, Katherine was nothing more than a “flower vase” — beautiful but empty, a temporary accessory for the Lord of the Spences.
Katherine, however, walked between the tables with her head held high, completely immune to the venom around her. Her indifference was her armor, and she wore it better than any designer label.
“Ota! Over here!”
The sweet, familiar voice cut through the buzz.
All heads turned. Nísia was sitting at a privileged table near the window, surrounded by her court: Dandara Arbex and Bruno. She waved enthusiastically, as if the morning's incident had never happened.
Octavio heard the call. His eyes met Nísia's, but there was no warmth, only cold recognition. He didn't stop.
As it was rush hour, the restaurant was full. Ironically—or unfortunately for Nísia—the only vacant tables were in that section.
Katherine didn't hesitate. She spotted an empty table right next to Nísia's group and walked toward it. Octavio followed closely behind, loyal as a bodyguard.
Nísia's heart raced. She saw the two approaching and, in a reflex of vanity, moved her purse away from the chair next to her, making room at her own table.
She flashed that “perfect cousin” smile and looked at Octavio. “Ota! How nice to see you. Come, sit here with the g...”
Her words died in her throat.
Octavio walked right past the offered chair. He stopped at the next table—a separate table—and pulled out the chair for Katherine to sit down first.
Only after she was seated did he sit down. And he chose the chair that was with his back to Nísia.
It was a brutal gesture in its simplicity. He didn't just refuse the invitation; he erected a physical wall between them.
Nísia's smile froze, turning into a grimace of disbelief. She stared at Octavio's broad back, feeling the curious glances of the restaurant burn her skin.
Humiliated and ignored, she lowered her head and bit her lower lip so hard she tasted the metallic taste of blood.
Dandara Arbex's doll-like face was contorted with anger. Ignored and humiliated, she turned and, in a childish gesture, pulled Octavio's hair hard.
“Cousin!” she shouted, demanding attention.
Octavio frowned, turning away with displeasure. He smoothed his messy hair. “Who taught you such bad manners? This is not at all elegant for a lady of your family.”
Dandara crossed her arms, serious and authoritative. “I have something important to tell you. Come sit with us now.”
“Whatever you have to say, we'll talk about it at home.”
With that, he turned his back again, offering her only the view of his broad shoulders.
As the only granddaughter and “little princess” of the Arbex family, Dandara grew up being spoiled by her four brothers. Katherine's arrival and the attention she received—both from João and Octavio—made her feel as if her throne was being usurped. Her hatred for that “poor” girl grew with every passing second.
At Dandara's table, Bruno tried to appease the situation by serving more food into her bowl. “Don't be angry, Dandara. I have good news for you.”
Dandara took a reluctant bite of her food, still sulking. “What good news?”
Bruno puffed out his chest, assuming an air of importance. “Didn't you say your grandfather loves the art of ‘Primordial’? I got some new and exclusive works. When we get back, I'll bring them to you.”
Dandara stopped eating and put down her cutlery with an impatient sigh. "Don't bother, Bruno. The ones you gave me last time were all crude fakes. My grandfather noticed right away. Only the first one was authentic. Try to be smarter, okay? You're from an important family, stop letting people fool you with trash.
Bruno's smile faltered, but his “poker face” was impenetrable. He recovered quickly. “Oh, about that...” Actually, I wrote those copies myself. I just wanted to test whether your grandfather's eye was really that sharp. And, of course, he's a genius, he noticed right away!
Dandara turned up her nose, her grandfather's ego being stroked. “Of course! My grandfather is a multifaceted talent. No one can fool his eyes.”
Bruno smiled complacently and dropped the bombshell: “Very well. Next time, on his birthday, I'll give you a genuine piece. You know why? Because soon I'll be accepted as an official apprentice of the great Primordial.”
Dandara's eyes widened in surprise. “Really? But... they say he's a hermit, super mysterious and unreachable.”
Bruno let out a dismissive laugh, swirling his glass of water as if it were expensive wine. “Mysterious? Please, Dandara. No matter how reclusive he is, who can resist the power of money? As they say, money makes even ghosts work for you. A calligrapher would be no different.”
The phrase, laden with arrogance and ignorance, floated over to the next table.
Katherine heard every word. She continued chewing slowly, but the corners of her pink lips curved into a subtle and dangerous smile.
“Apprentice? Money buying the Primordial?” The joke was a good one.