Chapter 17
~ Octavia ~
The deed was done. I had married a man I barely knew. A man who ran hot and cold, oscillating between clinical professionalism and sharp irritation. I had sacrificed my freedom to save my family's legacy, and I could only hope my parents and Frederick were satisfied with the result.
Our return to New York after the "honeymoon" marked the true beginning of our miserable life together. I couldn't stop thinking about a moment from our wedding day. I had been wandering the guest wing when I passed Franklin's door. I'd heard him mumbling and, overcome by a sudden, sharp curiosity, I leaned in.
He was on the phone with Bella. I heard him pleading, his voice thick with a desperation he never showed me. I had walked away then, the weight of the truth settling in: I was the wife, but she was the one he craved.
At work, the atmosphere was suffocating. Colleagues called me "Mrs. Flemington," a title I begged them to swap for my maiden name.
They gave me gifts I didn't want and smiles I didn't trust.
A week later, we were all summoned to the conference room for the promotion announcement. This was the moment I had anticipated through every caffeine-fueled, sleepless night of work.
"After careful consideration," Franklin began, his voice smooth and professional, "the team and I have decided that the promotion for Lead Developer will go to Victoria Whitmore."
The room seemed to tilt. "What?" I heard Victoria gasp, her voice thick with shock.
I wasn't jealous of my friend—she was brilliant—but I was stunned. I had poured my soul into Project Vortex. Then I heard a sharp intake of breath from across the room. Bella stood up, glaring at Franklin with unadulterated rage. He pointedly avoided her gaze.
"While Miss Herman and Miss Washington delivered brilliant projects," Franklin continued, "we believe this balance is best for the company's future. Congratulations, Miss Whitmore."
As the meeting adjourned and the room erupted into chatter, I forced myself to walk over to Victoria.
"Congratulations, Vic," I said, forcing a genuine smile despite the pang of disappointment. "You earned it."
"Octavia, I... I don't know what to say," she whispered. "I honestly thought it would be you. Your presentation was top-notch."
"What? Don't be silly," I said, pushing down my own hurt. "Let's get lunch later to celebrate. It's on me."
As Victoria went to speak with Miranda, I caught sight of Bella cornering Franklin in the hallway. I hovered near the door, my heart racing.
"What was that?" Bella hissed, her voice trembling. "You promised me that promotion, Franklin! You said you'd give it to me if I considered taking you back! Why did you betray me for a nobody like Victoria?"
My blood ran cold. So that was the deal. He had been willing to compromise the integrity of the firm just to buy her back.
"Keep your voice down," Franklin said calmly. "I wanted to give it to you, Bell. Believe me. But the board and the team leads looked at the metrics. I couldn't force it without causing a revolt."
"You're the CEO, dammit!" she spat before storming away.
I shrank into the shadows. He had tried to choose her. Even in business, I was an afterthought.
A few days later, I arrived at the estate to a strange silence. It was Thursday—the day Frederick usually gave the staff the afternoon off. Frederick was away on a trip, and the house felt cavernous and lonely.
I decided to cook. I spent two hours in the kitchen preparing lemon-herb roasted chicken, lasagne and chicken pot pie.
I wanted to show him I was more than just a contract partner. The truth was terrifying: I was falling for him. Ever since he'd opened up to me about his parents, I felt a connection I couldn't ignore. He had shared something with me. It made me feel special—until the front door opened.
"You're home," I said, meeting him in the foyer. "Since the staff is off, I made dinner. I made…"
"I'm not hungry," Franklin interrupted, his tone icy. "It was a long day. I'm going to sleep."
"Oh... okay," I mumbled, my heart sinking. "I could give you a massage? You look tense."
"No. I'm fine."
He walked up the stairs without a second glance. The smell of the dinner I had worked so hard on suddenly made me feel nauseous. I ate alone at the massive dining table; the food tasted like ash.
Later that night, I found myself pacing the hallway outside his room. I told myself I wanted water, but my hand hovered over his doorknob. Should I tell him how I felt?
Then, I heard it. A laugh. A warm, genuine laugh I had never heard him give me.
"I know, I know," I heard him say into the phone. "I missed you today. The trip to the coast next week? I've already told the office it's a 'business getaway.' No one will suspect a thing."
Tears pricked my eyes. I turned and fled back to my room, locking the door before the sobs could break loose.
The pattern continued for a week. He was never home, claiming "business trips" that I knew were lies. One evening, as I left work, I saw a non-descript black sedan pulled up a block away.
I watched as Bella approached the car and slid inside. Franklin reached over to open the door for her, a look on his face I'd never seen directed at me.
He didn't see me standing on the sidewalk. He didn't care to look.
Why did it hurt this much? I was just a wife on paper, a stranger in a mansion, watching the man I loved chase a ghost that lived in the cubicle next to mine.