Chapter 67

~ Octavia ~

The announcement of the field trip had hit the office like a lightning bolt. In all my years at JeffTech, we had only ever done this once—back when I was a lowly intern.

The sudden "generosity" was suspicious, and my suspicions were confirmed when the office gossip mill revealed the retreat was Franklin’s brainchild.

Watching him stand in the boardroom, coolly announcing the trip as a "strategic alignment," made my skin crawl.

Why now? Why us?

All week, the office was a hive of excitement. Even Victoria was caught up in the fervor. "Think of it as a paid escape from reality," she said as I leaned against her office door.

"You realize the man you loathe is the one paying for this ’escape,’ right?" I reminded her.

"In the office, he’s the boss, and I follow orders," she said with a shrug and a smirk.

"By the way, have you noticed that Bella hasn’t shown her face in days? It’s like the wicked witch finally melted."

"That’s true, though I try not to think about her," I admitted, though the relief was real.

When Saturday finally arrived, the air was crisp with the arrival of spring. I chose a yellow floral sundress and a lightweight beige cardigan, letting my hair fall loose. After a brief, hushed argument about the limo, I gave in.

I didn’t want my colleagues whispering about why the CEO’s wife was hiding on the staff bus.

Inside the limo, the tension was thick enough to choke on. I sat as far from Franklin as the leather seats allowed, though I couldn’t escape the scent of his cologne—a mix of cedar and expensive chocolate that was maddeningly masculine. I kept my eyes glued to the window as Manhattan faded into the distance.

"Are you hungry?" Franklin’s voice broke the silence. "I can have Walter pull over at a diner before we hit the highway."

"I’m not hungry," I said, not turning around.

"Are you sure? It’s a long drive, Octavia. A quick breakfast wouldn’t—"

"I’m not fucking hungry, Franklin! Drop it!" I snapped, the frustration of the last few weeks boiling over.

"I was just concerned," he said softly. "I don’t want you getting a headache."

"Nobody asked you to be concerned. Stop acting like you care."

"I have every right to care. I’m your husband."

"Stop saying that! Stop reminding me of that every fucking five minutes!" I exasperated, finally looking at him. My chest heaved with indignation.

"It’s the truth, Octavia. Whether you wear the rings or not, we are married. I’m cool with the bare hand, but I won’t pretend you aren’t mine."

"You are an unbearable asshole," I muttered, turning back to the window.

A heavy silence followed. "I’m sorry," he whispered after a few miles. "For upsetting you." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

I didn’t answer. The rhythmic hum of the tires and the cool blast of the AC eventually wore down my defenses. I leaned my head against the glass and, before I knew it, the world went dark.

"Hey... Octavia. We’re here."

The voice was a gentle caress against my ear. I groaned, blinking my eyes open and feeling a warmth that didn’t come from the sun.

As my vision cleared, my heart nearly stopped. I wasn’t leaning against the window anymore. I was tucked firmly against Franklin’s side, my head resting on his shoulder, his arm draped protectively around me.

"What the hell?!" I scrambled away, pressing myself against the door. "How did I get here?"

"The sun was hitting the window too hard," Franklin said, his voice smooth and unapologetic. "You looked uncomfortable. I just moved you so you could sleep better. Did you have a good nap?"

"It would have been better if you’d kept your hands to yourself. This is a business trip, Franklin, not a honeymoon. Don’t touch me again."

"My apologies," he said, though his eyes held a glimmer of something that wasn’t sorry at all.

Walter opened the door, and I stepped out into the salt-tinged air of Long Island. The resort was a masterpiece of white stone and towering columns, positioned on the edge of a private beach where the turquoise water met bone-white sand. It was breathtaking.

In the grand lobby, Mr. Rice was busy organizing the staff. "Two to a room, ladies! Please form a queue for your keys."

I turned to Ava, one of the lead designers. "I guess we’re roommates for the weekend, Ava. That’ll be—"

"Actually, Ava will be sharing with Sarah," Franklin interrupted, stepping up behind me.

"What? Why?" I demanded, whirling around.

"Because you and I are sharing the executive suite," he said calmly. "It’s already been arranged."

"Franklin, that’s ridiculous. You’re the Chairman; you should have your own space, or share with Mr Rice if you need to work." My voice was rising, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Nonsense." He leaned down, his lips brushing the hair near my ear as several of my colleagues watched us with curious grins.

"You’re my wife. It would look incredibly strange if we didn’t share a room on a retreat meant to show ’unity,’ wouldn’t it?"

His voice was a low, husky vibration that made my knees feel like water. I turned away quickly, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks, terrified he’d see how much his proximity still affected me.

As the staff dispersed to find their rooms, I stood frozen in the lobby, clutching my purse. I was going to be trapped in a suite with him. Just the two of us.

The thought made me feel dangerously weak, and as I looked up to see him smirking at me, I knew this weekend was going to be a battle I wasn’t sure I could win.

I could see the playful glint in his eyes, a silent challenge that suggested he enjoyed having me cornered. The ocean breeze outside mocked my inner turmoil, whispering of freedom while I was bound to this man by history and a room key. I was essentially his captive in paradise.