Chapter 6

Night fell like ink.

After hours on the road, Octavia was exhausted. Passing by a restaurant, her stomach growled traitorously.

A five-star establishment. With how busy she'd been working, it had been ages since she'd eaten at a place like this.

"Hello, one steak and one pasta, to go, please."

After ordering, Octavia found a seat and sat down, propping her chin on her hand as she waited patiently.

After talking with those industry leaders, she'd realized how much she'd fallen behind these past few years. Before officially joining the project team, she had to close those gaps.

Lost in thought, she suddenly heard a child's bright laughter.

Almost instinctively, she looked over. Her eyes stung.

Not far away sat three familiar figures.

Ignatius, as always, wore a custom-tailored suit. Tall and elegant, he carried himself with an air of refined wealth. Wherever he appeared, he was a sight to behold.

Beside him was the son she'd carried for ten months—Holden. The little boy wore a tracksuit, his small face glowing with happiness, his eyes crinkling as he happily munched on fries.

Across from Ignatius sat Yvaine, as elegant and poised as ever. Her well-fitted dress showed off her graceful figure. Her makeup was flawless, her jewelry expensive. She looked like a socialite who'd stepped right out of a TV screen.

Suddenly, all three of them laughed together.

Holden's movements were too big—he got ketchup on himself. Yvaine gently pulled out a napkin and wiped it off for him. Ignatius sat beside them, watching quietly, his gaze soft and indulgent. He picked up his steak, carefully cut it into small pieces, and placed them in front of Yvaine.

Yvaine smiled gently and took a bite.

Their eyes met. An intimate warmth filled the air between them.

A family of three. So warm. So happy it was enviable.

So the cold Ignatius could be this gentle. It's just that this tenderness had nothing to do with her.

Octavia looked away. Her face felt cool. When she reached up to touch it, she realized tears had been streaming down her cheeks without her noticing.

How pathetic. She'd already decided to leave—why was she crying?

Ignatius's coldness wasn't new. It had been there from the day they met. To keep her out of sight and out of mind, he'd even made her travel constantly for work.

As for the child... She'd carried him for ten months, given birth with such difficulty, cared for Holden with all her heart. It's just that they weren't meant to be mother and son.

If they were all happy, why should she interfere?

"Look at that family of three—they're so happy. The man's handsome, the woman's beautiful. They'd stand out anywhere."

"No kidding. Just looking at how good-looking the kid is, you know the parents are gorgeous. And rich... See that watch on the woman's wrist? At least a million dollars, easy."

"That man's so gentle. Peeling shrimp, cutting steak—so attentive. What do I do? I believe in love again. I want a thoughtful husband like that too."

Hearing the gossip from the next table, Octavia's heart sank further.

Every word was like a needle stabbing into her chest. Blood dripped from the wounds.

Half a month had passed. Her child hadn't missed her. She'd really failed as a mother.

But then again, she'd been traveling so often for work these past years. There'd been times they hadn't seen each other for a whole month.

If you couldn't hold onto someone, let them go. No point clinging.

Realizing this, Octavia's mood inexplicably lifted a little.

She took a deep breath and urged the waiter, "Please hurry. I'm in a rush."

Carrying her takeout bag, Octavia was about to leave from the side when a familiar voice rang out.

"You're here too? What a coincidence." Yvaine had been taking photos on her phone. Catching sight of Octavia from the corner of her eye, she greeted her warmly.

She walked over gracefully in her heels. "What fate—the city's so big, and we still ran into each other. Why don't you join us?"

Her tone was gentle, but her words had hidden barbs. On the surface it was an invitation, but really it was calculated—as if implying Octavia had been following them.

Over the past six months, Octavia had heard this kind of thing countless times. Her gaze was indifferent. "Sorry. I'm very busy."

From start to finish, she didn't spare the father and son a single glance—as if they were strangers.

Ignatius frowned. The earlier warmth vanished, replaced by a sharp gaze and obvious irritation. "Don't do these shameless things."

So he also thought she was stalking them?

Octavia laughed—out of sheer frustration. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Either way, running into each other is fate. Let's eat together. The little guy loves the food here... Right?" Yvaine acted like she owned the place, as if she were Ignatius's wife and Holden's mother. Like an old friend, she grabbed Octavia's hand, trying to make her sit.

Octavia frowned and raised her hand to shake her off.

But in the next second—

Yvaine stumbled backward as if someone had shoved her.

Ignatius lunged forward and caught her by the waist, his expression dark. "What are you doing?"

"I—"

Octavia's explanation was on the tip of her tongue when a waiter nearby tripped over something. The soup on their tray splashed toward them without warning.

The soup was steaming hot, fresh from the pot.

Octavia was about to dodge when a cry of alarm rang out. Someone shoved her hard. She couldn't avoid it in time—the soup splashed onto her arm.

Meanwhile, Yvaine was shielded firmly by both Ignatius and Holden.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—someone tripped me..." The waiter was terrified, tears welling in their eyes.

Ignatius's cold gaze landed on Octavia.

Yvaine's face was full of smug satisfaction, though her tone remained gentle. "It's fine. Don't blame her. It wasn't intentional..."

"Apologize." Ignatius's thin lips parted, the words coated in ice.

Holden said nothing. His eyes were wide, his lips pressed into a tight line.

Seeing the father and son like this, Octavia laughed coldly and pointed up at the surveillance camera overhead. "Thank goodness for technology. What just happened can be checked easily. Someone does need to apologize—but that person isn't me."

Following her gaze, Yvaine's face paled. "This is all a misunderstanding. Let's just go home."

She glanced at Octavia's reddened hand, a smirk tugging at her lips, her eyes carrying a hint of provocation. "It's such a small thing. No need to make a scene. I'm tired..."

The last sentence ended on an upward lilt, coquettish in tone. She raised her hand casually, revealing a slightly reddened finger.

Holden's eyes turned red. "Your hand's red. Let's go to the hospital... Don't pay attention to bad people."

The words "bad people" made Octavia's heart ache inexplicably.

By the time she snapped back to reality, Ignatius was already helping Yvaine toward the door.

As Holden left, he turned and stuck his tongue out at her, his disdain completely undisguised.

"Miss, are you okay? I can take you to the hospital." The waiter's timid voice broke through.

Octavia glanced at her scalded arm, a self-mocking smile curling at her lips.

Yvaine's pinky was only slightly red.

But here, no one saw the blisters forming on Octavia's arm.