Chapter 228

~Octavia~

I looked around the office. It looks untouched, but knowing that a hidden microphone was buried somewhere in this room changed the very air I breathed. It felt toxic.

I knew Miranda and Bella were likely monitoring the audio feed from their end, waiting for any slip, any crack in the armor of the newly appointed Lead Developer.

You want a story, Bella? I thought, a cold, sharp determination settling deep into my chest. I’ll give you a masterpiece.

I took a deep breath, deliberately forcing my posture to slump. I pulled out my cell phone, dialed a disconnected number, and held it to my ear. I waited a few seconds, pretending the call had connected, and then let out a shaky, trembling sigh that sounded entirely broken.

"Hey... thank goodness you picked up," I whispered, my voice thick with a vulnerability I had to violently pull from the darkest corners of my memory. I paced slowly toward the corner of my desk, right where the audio quality would be sharp. "No, I’m at the office. I... I just needed to talk to someone before I lose my mind."

I paused, nodding at the empty room, mimicking a conversation. When I spoke again, I forced my voice to crack perfectly.

"It’s Franklin," I choked out, letting a dry, breathless sob escape my throat. "He’s... he’s completely changed, and I don’t know what to do anymore. Ever since we got back from Greece, he’s become so cold. So distant. He barely looks at me, and when he does, it’s like he’s looking at a stranger."

I wiped a non-existent tear from my cheek, keeping my delivery raw and paced.

"I found out this morning," I continued, dropping my voice to a frantic, hushed whisper. "He’s been secretly meeting with a high-profile divorce lawyer downtown. He thinks I don’t know, but I saw the retainer emails. It turns out... it turns out he only married me out of sheer guilt after the accident. He doesn’t love me. He just felt responsible for everything that happened to me, I think he is still in love with Bella. I’m completely drowning here. I don’t know what to do."

I cut the call off abruptly, throwing the phone onto the desk and burying my face in my hands. I held the pose for a full minute, breathing heavily, letting the hidden listeners savor the absolute devastation of my fictional marriage.

When I finally stood straight and smoothed down my blazer, a fiercely satisfied smirk pulled at my lips. This would feed her sick ego perfectly, forcing her and Miranda to hesitate on their attack while they waited for the emotional fallout to destroy me first.

By the time the evening traffic finally let my driver pull up to the house garage, I was utterly exhausted.

When I walked through the front door, the warm, comforting scent of garlic and rosemary filled the air. Franklin was sitting on the living room sofa.

"Hey, beautiful," he murmured, his voice laced with that deep, unconditional warmth that always made my heart skip a beat.

"Hey," I breathed, kick-starting my heels off and practically collapsing onto the sofa beside him. I buried my face in his neck, breathing him in.

"Rough day?" he asked, chuckling softly as his strong arms wrapped securely around my waist, his palm instantly finding its familiar, protective place over my lower stomach.

"More complicated than expected," I sighed, pulling back just enough to look at him. I decided to change the subject before I got into the bugs. "I forgot to tell you earlier, but we have a new venture capital partner. His name is Williams. I met him this morning, and Franklin... something about him is deeply unsettling."

Franklin’s brow furrowed, his eyes instantly turning protective. "Unsettling how? Did he do something?"

I didn’t want to worry him with the details of Williams’s actual comment. I chose to paraphrase it instead. "He was just incredibly sarcastic, arrogant, and entirely unprofessional. He made some highly inappropriate, mocking remarks about our marriage and kept pushing boundaries. He just gave me absolute chills."

Franklin’s jaw clenched, a dangerous, hard glint flashing in his eyes. He tightened his grip on my waist. "I don’t care how much capital his syndicate has, no one disrespects my wife. I’ll ask Tate to look into this Williams guy immediately and run a full background check. If he’s a liability, we cut him loose."

"Thank you," I murmured, leaning my head back against the cushion. I shifted my weight, wincing slightly. "Ugh, my body is rebelling against me today. Look at this." I pointed down at my ankles. "My feet are so swollen from standing in that boardroom."

Franklin’s expression softened instantly into pure devotion. Without a word, he shifted down, dropping to his knees on the carpet right in front of me. He gently lifted my legs, resting my aching feet across his lap.

"Franklin, you don’t have to—"

"Hush," he commanded gently, his large, warm hands wrapping around my ankle. His thumbs began to press into the arches of my feet, applying the perfect, firm pressure. "Let me take care of you, Octavia."

A soft groan of pure relief escaped my lips as his thumbs worked away the tension. The warmth of his hands, combined with the steady, rhythmic movement, began to do something unpredictable to me. My pregnancy hormones, already a chaotic storm, violently shifted. Watching him look up at me with those dark, fiercely loyal eyes while his hands stroked my skin sent a sudden, electric jolt of heat straight to my core.

My breath hitched.

Franklin noticed the change in my breathing, his hands pausing on my calves. His gaze darkened, his eyes dropping to my lips as a heavy, charged silence fell over the room.

"Octavia..." he murmured, his voice suddenly husky.

I didn’t answer with words. Driven by a sudden, primal urge, I leaned forward, grabbed the lapels of his shirt, and pulled him up. My lips crashed into his with a desperate, wild hunger that took us both by surprise.

Franklin let out a low growl, his cane clattering uselessly to the floor as he swarmed over me. His hands gripped my waist, lifting me effortlessly as he climbed onto the sofa, pinning me beneath his heavy, solid frame. The kiss turned deep, fierce, and entirely unhinged, our crazed hormones driving us into a frenzy as his mouth marked a burning trail down my neck.

We were making out like teenagers, completely lost in each other, the dangers of the outside world entirely forgotten in the heat of the dark room.

It wasn’t until a knock pulled us apart from each other that we gave each other space.

"Octavia dear, how are you?" Grandpa said.

"Cockblocker." Franklin whispered in a frustrated tone.

I couldn’t help but laugh. But I couldn’t help but agree with Franklin.