Chapter 165

~ Clinton ~

I drove through the bustling streets of Soho with a quiet determination I hadn’t felt in days. It was finally time to see Octavia in person since her kidnapping. No more hiding. No more excuses.

I had the exact address of her parents’ apartment saved in my phone. When I reached the building, I parked smoothly and turned to the passenger seat. The gifts I had carefully chosen sat waiting: a beautiful bouquet of fresh roses, a soft teddy bear, scented candles, and a pack of luxurious face skincare masks I knew she would love.

I gathered everything, took a steadying breath, and stepped out of the car. After texting her that I had arrived, her reply came quickly: Come in.

The apartment door opened moments later, and there she was—Octavia. She looked healthier than the last time I had seen her, though still a little fragile. A small, genuine smile curved her lips.

"Hey," I grinned.

"Hi," she grinned back, her eyes brightening.

"Can I give you a hug?" I asked carefully. I didn’t want to do anything that might make her uncomfortable.

"Sure, of course. Bring it in," she said cheerfully.

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her in a gentle, warm embrace. She felt smaller than I remembered, but the hug was sincere and comforting. When we pulled apart, the tension that had lingered between us seemed to ease just a little.

"Come on in," she offered, stepping aside.

I entered the cozy living room. "What about your parents?"

"My mom went to her usual book club, and my dad is at work. Mom should be back in less than thirty minutes though."

"Okay. Do they know I was coming?"

"Just my mom," she shrugged.

"Why didn’t you tell your dad?"

"He left very early this morning for a meeting with some business associates."

"Have a seat," she said, gesturing toward the living room.

"Thank you." I chose an armchair while she settled on the sofa across from me.

"Are those for me?" she asked, eyeing the gift bags I had placed on the floor.

"Yeah, sorry," I cleared my throat with a playful smile. "I come bearing gifts... ho, ho, ho!"

I mimicked Santa Claus’s deep voice, and Octavia erupted into laughter, the sound light and genuine. It made my whole day brighter.

"Nice one, Clinton," she said, still laughing, which made me chuckle along with her.

Seeing her happy like this felt like a small victory.

"Here you go," I said, handing her the bags.

"Thank you." She accepted them eagerly.

"You’re welcome."

"Ooh, scented candles! That’s so thoughtful. I love them," she said, inspecting each item with delight.

"I’m glad you do," I replied, my smile widening.

"How have you been?" I asked as she set the gifts aside and faced me fully.

"I’ve been good," she replied softly. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

"Does your head still hurt?"

"Sometimes, when I’m stressed or overthinking. But other than that, it’s manageable."

"That’s good news," I said with genuine relief.

"Yeah." She chuckled lightly.

"So your memories have really returned," I began.

"Mmm-hmm. I’m glad they did."

"Me too." I leaned forward slightly. "You know what else I’m glad about?"

"What? Tell me," she asked, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

"That you remembered the good parts of me."

"Hello? And the bad parts as well," she teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah... and the bad parts too," I admitted with a nod.

"How are things going with you?" she asked.

"Good," I replied simply.

She tilted her head as if she wanted to say more but held back. After a moment, she spoke again. "Now that Mr. Rice has shown his true self, where do you think he is?"

I paused, considering the question. "He’s probably hiding under the radar. He knows he’s a suspect now."

"It’s more like he’s the culprit," Octavia mumbled.

"Yeah, that too."

"All this time he was right in front of us, and we never noticed?" She frowned, hugging her knees to her chest.

"He was an excellent actor," I said. "He played his role perfectly. That’s why none of us saw any cracks."

"You’re right." She sighed. "Because of that, I can’t even leave the house without feeling paranoid."

"Don’t be. Soon, we’re going to catch that son of a bitch and bring him to justice," I assured her firmly.

"For how long?" she asked, looking straight at me.

"Soon," I promised.

"Well, I hope ’soon’ comes quickly," she said with another sigh.

"Me too."

"Don’t you think we should involve the police? Quietly, so whoever is watching us doesn’t notice?" she suggested.

"It’s not that simple, Octavia," I sighed.

"Why?"

"Because if they’re still watching us, even a quiet police involvement could tip them off. The next time, they might not come after us directly. This time, we may not get kidnapped again, They could target our loved ones to control us. That’s the last thing I want to happen."

"That’s true," she mumbled.

"I promise you, Octavia, I will protect you no matter what," I said, holding her gaze.

"It’s not your duty to protect me, Clinton. I need you to—"

"It may not be my duty," I interrupted gently, "but I won’t stand by and watch you get hurt. I can’t do that."

"Okay," she whispered. "I just don’t want you getting hurt because of me."

"Nothing is going to happen to me. You have to trust me on that."

She nodded slowly.

After a moment of silence, I asked, "What about Franklin?"

"Who?" she asked, as if the name surprised her.

"Franklin Flemington," I clarified, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh...right. What about him?"

"Is he comfortable with you staying here in your parents’ apartment instead of at his estate, especially now that you’ve been discharged?"

"I don’t care if he’s comfortable or not," she said firmly. "What matters is that I’m staying here until I’m fully better, then I’ll move back to my own apartment."

"Well, that plan probably won’t sit well with him," I noted.

"Does it look like I care?" she frowned.

I leaned forward, studying her face. "Did something happen between you two?"

"Yeah, but..." She looked down at her fingers, twisting them nervously. "It doesn’t matter anymore."

"It does," I said quietly.

"What?" She looked confused.

"It does matter to you. You’re still angry about it."

"Can we not talk about it?" she asked, her voice tightening.

"Okay," I agreed, letting the subject drop.

We sat in silence for a moment before she spoke again. "You made a statement earlier... you said something about us getting kidnapped again. What did that mean?"

At first, I hesitated. I didn’t want to upset her further. But I also knew I couldn’t keep lying to her. If she found out later, it would only hurt her more.

"Just like you, Octavia...I was also kidnapped by Anthony Rice, Franklin’s secretary."

Her eyes widened in shock.