Thomas's eyes widened in horror. "No, Eleanor, you can't do this."
"I can and I will," Eleanor said firmly. "Either she leaves, or our family's fortune and reputation are ruined. The choice is yours, Thomas."
Ophelia looked at her father, seeing the anguish in his eyes. She knew he was caught between a rock and a hard place, and the empire he had spent his life building was on the line.
"Father," she said softly, her voice choked with emotion, "I don't want to be the reason you lose everything. If leaving is what it takes to save our family, then I'll do it."
Thomas shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "Ophelia, no. You're my daughter. I can't let you go."
Ophelia kissed her father's forehead, trying to convey all the love and gratitude she felt. "I'll always be your daughter, no matter what. But I can't stay here and be the cause of our family's downfall."
As she turned to leave, Eleanor's cold voice followed her. "Goodbye, Ophelia. I hope you find what you're looking for."
Clarissa's triumphant smirk was the last thing Ophelia saw as she walked out of the hospital room, her heart breaking with every step. She felt like a stranger in her own life, cast out from the only family she had ever known.
In the hospital hallway, Ophelia leaned against the wall, trying to steady her breathing. She had lost everything in the span of a few hours—her identity, her family, her future. But deep down, a flicker of determination began to burn. She would rebuild her life, no matter how difficult it would be.
A few hours later, drowning in her own sorrow, Ophelia found herself at a nearby bar. She drank heavily, trying to numb the pain of her shattered world. The alcohol blurred her thoughts and dulled her senses until she was too drunk to control her footing. In a single night, she had lost everything—her identity, her family, her future. Though Eleanor had never shown her motherly love, Ophelia had never imagined the depths of her stepmother's detestation.
Unbeknownst to her, a figure had been watching her from outside the bar, his eyes never leaving her. He ensured that no one dared to misbehave with her, his presence a silent deterrent to any would-be troublemakers. This enigmatic man had seen the devastating events unfold at the gala and had followed Ophelia, driven by a mixture of concern and curiosity.
As the night wore on, Ophelia stumbled out into the cool night air, feeling the chill sobering her slightly, though not enough to steady her steps. As she moved clumsily through the dark street, she didn't notice the figure shadowing her movements, his presence commanding and intense. Her heart skipped a beat when, in a moment of clarity, she recognized him—the business tycoon who had watched her so closely at the gala.
Her tears blurred her vision, and her steps wavered. Just as her legs gave way, she felt a strong hand encircle her waist, pulling her firmly against a solid chest. It was like falling against a wall, yet there was an unexpected warmth and softness. The man's grip was both reassuring and possessive.
"Ophelia Devereux," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "We need to talk."
Ophelia's eyes widened with surprise and curiosity. Despite her drunken haze, she felt a quickening pulse of intrigue and recognition. "Who... who are you?" she managed to slur, her voice thick with emotion.
"My name is Alexander," he replied, his tone gentle yet firm. "I've been watching over you tonight to ensure you're safe. We have a lot to discuss, but first, let's get you somewhere you can rest."
Ophelia tried to process his words, but the alcohol and the shock of the night's events made it difficult to think clearly. "Why... why do you care?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Alexander's eyes softened, and he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Because you need someone to care right now. And because your story isn't over yet, Ophelia."
Before she could respond, the world tilted, and darkness overtook her. The last thing she remembered was his steady gaze, his presence a mix of danger and allure. Alexander was carrying Ophelia in his arms like a most valued possession in this world. Not even for once his eyes left her face, absorbing every bit of emotion her face displayed. He knew she drank a lot today, he knew she had to vent out her emotions, he knew she had to cry. She would stand all independent and strong in front of the whole world but for him she was still a little girl whom he wanted to protect with everything he had.
Gently, he slipped inside the car adjusting her body on his lap and adjusting himself to make her more comfortable even at the cost of his discomfort. Her clothes were damped and he could feel her body shivering.
"Lucas, increase the temperature."
"Yes boss!"
Lucas, his secretary, was surely in a state of confusion. He was not going to get any time to take a nap tonight. But the confusion was for that girl, his boss wanted to increase the temperature which he won't do until and unless it's winter. Sure enough Lucas saw a lot of shocking sides of his boss tonight. However, only one thing was going inside his mind that he should never go against this lady who was sleeping peacefully in his boss's arms.
From behind Alexander grabbed a blanket and quickly wrapped it around Ophelia's body as quick as possible but making sure not to disturb her sleep.
"Drive towards home."
Lucas swallowed the saliva in his mouth, he could not believe that the boss was taking this lady to his house. Apart from saying "Yes boss." he couldn't reply with anything else.
Meanwhile as Ophelia slipped into unconsciousness, she couldn't help but wonder what new secrets and challenges awaited her. Little did she know, this encounter would be the beginning of a tumultuous journey that would redefine her destiny.