Chapter 49

~ Franklin ~

Back in my office, the silence was deafening. I sat in my swivel chair, staring at the wall as the reality of Bella’s betrayal sank in. She hadn’t just broken my heart; she had treated me like a target. My phone buzzed on the desk—Bella. I hit ignore.

She called again. And again.

With a surge of cold finality, I blocked her number. I needed to breathe. I needed my sanity. Looking back, the signs were everywhere, but I had let lust and a desperate need for a connection blind me. Had I ever truly loved her, or was I just in love with the version of her she performed for me?

I was pulled from my spiral by Anthony, my secretary, reminding me of a crucial lunch meeting with JeffTech. I forced myself into a professional headspace, though the anger was still simmering just beneath the surface.

Walter drove me to the JeffTech headquarters.

As we pulled up to the curb, a silver car was already parked there.

The driver stepped out, and my blood turned to ice. Clinton Harrington.

Before I could process why he was there, the passenger door opened.

Octavia stepped out, with her smiling at him.

"What the hell?" I muttered.

I didn’t wait for Walter to open my door. I threw it open myself and marched toward them, my shadow looming large on the pavement.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" I demanded, my voice a low roar.

Octavia jumped, her eyes widening in shock.

"Franklin? What are you doing here?"

"I’m the one asking the questions," I snapped, turning my glare toward Clinton. "What are you doing with my wife, Clinton?"

Octavia stepped between us, her expression shifting from shock to defiance.

"Clinton? Wait—you two know each other?"

"We’ve crossed paths," Clinton said smoothly, his eyes never leaving mine. He looked entirely too comfortable.

"We did more than cross paths when—"

"Franklin, stop," Octavia cut me off, her voice cold. "You have no right to stop us in the street and interrogate me. What do you think is going on?"

I looked from Clinton to Octavia, the pieces clicking together in the worst possible way. "Is he the one? The ’someone else’ you said you were seeing?"

"My personal life is no longer your concern, Franklin," she said, her chin lifting. "I don’t owe you an apology, and I certainly don’t owe you an explanation." She turned back to Clinton, her voice softening instantly. "Thank you for lunch, Clinton. It was lovely."

"My pleasure," Clinton replied, a smug tilt to his lips. "I’ll text you later."

"Bye. Drive safe." She turned and walked toward the building entrance, ignoring me as if I were a ghost.

I waited until she was through the doors before I rounded on Clinton. "What do you fucking want with my wife?"

"Oh, so now she’s ’your wife’ again?" Clinton chuckled, leaning against his car door.

"Don’t play the protective husband now, Franklin. It’s a bit late for that."

"Don’t play games with me! What is your angle with Octavia?"

"My ’angle’ is that I’m the man she’s seeing. You heard her. Get used to it."

I scoffed, my hands curling into fists. "She’s still legally married to me, Clinton. You’re stepping into a minefield."

"If she’s so married to you, why is she living in an apartment instead of your mansion?" he countered. "I know exactly where she is, and I know exactly how much you hurt her."

"Stay away from her. I mean it. You’re stepping on a lion’s tail."

"Challenge accepted," Clinton said, his smile fading into something harder. "I’m not going anywhere. You left her shattered, depressed, and alone. I’m the one putting the pieces back together. I’m the one making her happy."

"You’re a Harrington!" I yelled. "Your father is a lunatic who lives for revenge. Who’s to say you aren’t using her to get to me? Whatever sick plan you have to deceive her, stop it now."

Clinton stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I don’t have a plan, Franklin. I have feelings for her. I love her. So do us all a favor—sign the divorce papers so I can have her all to myself."

"I’m not signing anything," I hissed through gritted teeth. "I’m staying married to her."

"Just so you can keep her miserable? That won’t happen." Clinton hopped into his car, but before he pulled away, he looked up at me one last time. "You told her you’d never love her. You chose your mistress over her for years. Why are you so bothered now that she’s found a man who actually appreciates her? It’s pathetic, Franklin. Though thank you for letting such an angel go...because now that she’s with me, I’m never letting her go."

He drove off, leaving me standing on the sidewalk, shaking with a rage so hot I thought I might go blind. It was jealousy—pure, unadulterated jealousy.

I marched into the building, my bodyguards struggling to keep up. I sat through the board meeting, but I couldn’t hear a word. All I could see was Clinton’s smug face and the way Octavia had looked at him. Was he turning into his father? Was this the Harrington revenge—taking the one thing I didn’t realize I needed until she was gone?

"Cancel the meeting," I interrupted the head of the board mid-sentence. "My mind isn’t on this. Reschedule it." 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

"Of course, Mr. Flemington," they murmured, scurrying out of the room.

I sat alone in the massive conference room, the silence echoing. I pulled out my phone and dialed Miranda Lawson, Octavia’s team lead.

"Mr. Flemington? Good morning," she said, sounding surprised.

"Miranda, send Octavia to the main conference room. Tell her it’s urgent. I need to see her now."

"I’ll send her right away, sir."

I hung up and leaned back, watching the door. I was done being ignored. If Octavia wanted a war, she was about to get one.