Chapter 64

~ Octavia ~

I stood at the front of the boardroom, the hum of the projector the only sound as I clicked through my final slides. As the presentation ended, a wave of professional relief washed over me. The partnership between Flemington Group and JeffTech was officially scaling to new heights.

In the back of the room, Franklin was clapping.

He looked like the picture of a supportive partner, but his behavior all morning had put me on edge. He had complimented my work as "remarkable" before we even sat down. He’d tried to bring me coffee, which I refused. He’d even cajoled the board members, telling them to "take extensive notes" because my strategy was flawless.

Why was he being so nice? The sudden shift from icy indifference to doting husband was more exhausting than his hatred.

After the meeting, as the directors began discussing the next steps, one of them stood up. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have one more announcement. We are pleased to announce a strategic partnership with a new venture capitalist firm. Clinton Sancho Harrington will be joining us to oversee JeffTech’s growth phase."

My heart didn’t just skip; it stopped. I glanced at Franklin. His face was a mask of pure, murderous shock—mirroring my own.

Clinton stepped into the room, wearing a modest, genuine smile.

"Hello, everyone. I’m Clinton Sancho Harrington. I’m thrilled to be part of JeffTech’s future. Thank you for having me here."

The room erupted in applause. As people began to filter out, I started stacking my files with trembling hands. Clinton approached me immediately.

"Hello, Octavia. How have you been?"

"What are you doing here, Clinton?" I hissed, not looking up. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Franklin lingering by the door, pretending to talk to a director while his eyes were burned into the back of my head.

"I’m here for business, as you can see."

"Don’t lie to me. Did your father send you here to spy again? To gather more ammunition against the Flemingtons?" I finally looked at him, my brow furrowed in anger. "I wouldn’t be surprised if this was just Phase Two of his plan."

"That’s not why I’m here," Clinton said softly.

He glanced behind me, his expression tightening. Franklin was staring at us openly now, his jaw set.

"Octavia, can we please talk? Somewhere private? It’s important."

I wanted to say no. I wanted to run. But the desperation in his eyes was hard to ignore.

"Fine," I sighed. "Ten minutes."

I followed him to a quiet restaurant around the corner. We sat in a secluded booth and ordered drinks we didn’t intend to touch.

"Talk," I commanded.

"Octavia...remember that night at the diner? When we had ice cream and you finally told me why you were so unhappy?" He paused, looking down at his hands. "I recorded that conversation."

Rage flared in my chest, hot and sharp. "You recorded me? While I was crying? While I was vulnerable?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I was gathering information for my father. I was going to use your pain to bring Frederick down. But...I couldn’t do it."

"So where is this going, Clinton?"

"I deleted the recordings. My father asked me for the intel, and I lied to him. I told him I got nothing. My first meeting with you was intentional—I admit that—but I didn’t expect you to change me. I saw how good you were, and I realized I’d rather betray my own blood than betray you. I quit his scheme because of you, Octavia. I’m so sorry. I just want you to find it in your heart to forgive me."

"Clinton, I—"

"What the fuck are you doing with my wife, Harrington?"

The table rattled as Franklin barged into the booth area, his presence like a dark cloud.

"Why do you keep following me, Franklin?" I demanded, standing up. "What do you want?"

"I’m not comfortable with this douchebag following you like a lost puppy," Franklin snapped. "It needs to stop. Now."

I scoffed, looking at him with utter disbelief. "And why is that? How does this concern you? Have you forgotten we’re separated? I don’t live in your house, Franklin. I don’t live in your world."

"Lower your voice, Octavia," he said, his tone dangerously calm.

"You’re the one who barged in here yelling! I’ve told you a thousand times to leave me alone, yet you’ve traced me here? What is wrong with you?"

"I should be asking you that! We are still legally married, and yet you’re seen in public with this piece of shit!"

"That’s enough!" Clinton stood up abruptly, stepping between us.

"You have no right to barge in here. You can’t deny Octavia’s existence for two years and then reclaim her whenever you feel jealous. You had your chance to be a husband, Franklin. You failed. Leave her the fuck alone."

"And if I don’t? What are you going to do about it?" Franklin’s voice was a challenge, his fist clenching at his side.

"Enough! Both of you!" I yelled, reaching my breaking point. "We are not doing this here." I grabbed Franklin’s arm and hauled him toward the exit to avoid the prying eyes of the other patrons.

Once we were on the sidewalk, I whirled on him. "Stop. Stalking. Me."

"Stop hanging out with him, Octavia. I’m telling you, he’s dangerous."

"You have no right to control me. You aren’t the boss of me."

"Technically, I am," he countered. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

"In the office, maybe. But in my life? You’re nothing. You’re a man who hated my presence for two years. I was a ’disgusting obstacle’ between you and Bella, remember? So why the hell can’t you just sign the divorce papers? Shouldn’t you be happy I’m gone?"

Franklin didn’t answer immediately. He glanced through the glass wall at Clinton, then back at me, his eyes dark with something I couldn’t identify. "Are you really that blind? He’s the son of the man trying to ruin us. He’s a spy, Octavia. A liar."

"At least he’s ten times the man you’ll ever be," I snapped.

Franklin looked like I’d slapped him. "You don’t care if he ruins you too?"

"I don’t care what you think of him. My relationship with Clinton is none of your business. Stay out of my life, Franklin. Aside from the partnership between our companies, we have nothing to say to each other. Go home."

I turned my back on him and walked back into the restaurant.

"What did he say?"

Clinton asked as I sat back down.

"I told him to grow up," I shrugged, though my heart was still racing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Franklin staring through the window for a long moment before finally storming off to his car.

"He looked... jealous," Clinton observed.

"Jealous? Of you? Please." I tried to chuckle, but it felt forced.

"I’ve missed that sound," Clinton said softly.

"Octavia... I know I hurt you. I know I broke your trust. I should have told you who I was from the start."

"You should have," I agreed, my voice softening. "I trusted you with everything, Clinton. I don’t know if we can ever go back to how it was. I need time to think."

"I’ll give you all the time in the world," he promised. "I’m not going anywhere. I’m like glue, Octavia. I’m sticking with you."

"I have to get back to work," I said, sliding out of the booth. "I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk."

"I’ll be waiting."

As I walked away, I felt his eyes on me—and I knew, deep down, that I had already forgiven him. I just wasn’t ready to let him win quite yet.