Chapter 250: ~ 250
Chapter 250
~Octavia~
We are in Franklin’s study. The night before the gala had arrived, and the entire penthouse felt like the quiet center of a hurricane. While the rest of Manhattan’s elite buzzed with anticipation, frantic to see if the Flemington empire would crumble under the weight of the tabloids, Franklin and I were meticulously charting our victory.
"The media barricades are set forty feet back from the main steps," Franklin murmured, his deep baritone cutting through the silence as he leaned over the desk, tracking the digital security layout on his tablet.
He had taken off his suit jacket hours ago, his black dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms. "Clinton secured the encrypted frequency for the press feeds. If Bella tries to flash any fabricated documents on the red carpet, the screens kill-switch instantly."
I stood right beside him, leaning lightly against his shoulder as I looked over the blueprints. My emerald silk gown from the fitting had been delivered earlier, but tonight I was wrapped in a simple, incredibly soft cashmere sweater that draped over my frame.
My belly was definitely showing now, a neat, unmistakable curve that declared the truth of my pregnancy, though under the loose knit of the sweater.
A sudden, strange sensation bloomed right against the palm of my hand.
It was a tiny, distinct, and unmistakable flutter. A little nudge from the inside.
I gasped, my hand freezing against my stomach, my eyes widening in absolute shock.
Franklin’s head snapped up, his dark eyes instantly locking onto my face, wide with a rare, fierce panic. "Octavia? What is it? Are you in pain?"
"Franklin, look," I breathed, my voice trembling with an emotion so raw it caught in my throat. I grabbed his large, warm hand and pressed it firmly over the lower curve of my stomach. "Wait for it. Right there."
For a second, neither of us breathed. Franklin stood completely still, with anticipation, his eyes never leaving mine. And then, it happened again. A sharp, little kick right against the center of his palm.
Franklin froze. The ruthless, untouchable billionaire looked entirely stunned, his breath catching sharply in his chest. A profound, melting adoration softened every rigid line of his face as his fingers were gently over my belly, his thumb tracing a slow, fiercely protective circle over the fabric.
"She kicked," he whispered, his voice rough and laced with an awe so deep it made my heart ache with love. He stepped entirely into my space, wrapping his free arm securely around my waist and pulling my back flush against his chest. He leaned down, pressing his lips firmly against the crown of my head, then trailed slow, burning kisses down my temple to the corner of my jaw. "Our baby is fighting in there."
"He certainly has your energy," I murmured, turning slightly in his embrace to look up into his dark, mesmerizing gaze.
Franklin didn’t answer with words. He leaned down, capturing my lips in a deep, possessive kiss that tasted of warmth, and a promise. We almost got lost in each other’s touch.
I pulled back just an inch, a soft, breathless giggle escaping my lips at the sheer intensity of his grip.
Franklin’s lips curled into a smile, a low chuckle vibrating against his chest as he nipped playfully at my lower lip. "You are incredibly cute when you laugh like that, sweetheart."
"You made me laugh" I teased, swatting his chest lightly, though my cheeks were burning.
The warmth of the moment lingered, but as my hand rested back against the curve of my stomach. I looked up at my husband, my expression hardening.
"Franklin," I said, my voice shifting into a tone that made his protective instincts instantly flare. "Instead of keeping this to myself any longer... there is something you need to know. Something I overheard today."
Franklin’s eyes narrowed, the tender husband instantly giving way to the predatory CEO. "What happened?"
"I went to use the restroom, and I caught Miranda on a furious phone call in one of the private conference rooms," I explained. "She was screaming at Bella. She told her she was sick of her reckless stunts, and that if she messed up at the gala, she was cutting her funding and leaving her to the feds. But it was the last sentence she said that changed everything, Franklin. Bella is her stepsister.’"
Franklin completely froze. He just stared at me.
Then, a dark, incredibly cold smirk slowly spread across his handsome features. The shock faded, replaced by an amused expression.
"Stepsister," he repeated, a dangerous chuckle escaping his chest. "Well, isn’t that fascinating? This isn’t a random ex trying to crawl back for child support. This is a coordinated family syndicate attempting an extortion."
He immediately reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and dialing Detective Tate’s private line on speaker.
"Tate," Franklin commanded the second the call connected. "Drop whatever you are doing. Look into the biological ties between Miranda and Bella. I want the exact family registry before the night ends."
On the other end of the line, Tate let out a long, thoroughly exhausted groan. "Franklin, it’s ten o’clock at night. I’ve been on their case for six hours."
I leaned closer to the phone, a small, amused smile playing on my lips. "I’m sorry, Detective Tate. I know the whole thing has completely exhausted you. Honestly, I’m exhausted too, and I’m sure you always dread our calls because there is always something new to check."
Tate let out a defeated chuckle. "Mrs. Flemington, your husband is a tyrant, but you’re too polite for me to say no to. I’m on it. Give me an hour."
As the call disconnected, I leaned back against the desk, looking at Franklin with a thoughtful expression. "You know, between Tate running himself ragged and Clinton handling the global media blocks, it’s funny how life changes. I remember when Clinton was practically your enemy. Look at us now. Life really has a twisted sense of humor."
Franklin laughed. He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead.
"I promise you, Octavia... the moment this gala is over and those snakes are handled, I have a complete luxury vacation planned for us. Just you, me, and our baby. We are going to get completely away from this city, and we are going to enjoy our time together."
"I am holding you to that, husband," I whispered, smiling against his chest.
True to his word, Tate delivered an hour later.
Franklin sat at the desk, his arm wrapped securely around my shoulders as I leaned over his arm to read the screen. The official court transcripts and birth registries from a decade ago.
"Look at this," I murmured, tracing the scanned documents. "Miranda is the older sister. Pure high-society pedigree from her mother’s side. But Bella..."
"Bella’s mother was a common scam artist," Franklin read aloud, his voice dripping with pure, aristocratic disdain as his eyes scanned the legal custody filings. "A one-night stand. Her mother deliberately trapped Miranda’s father with a pregnancy, forcing a massive, quiet court settlement to keep the affair out of the tabloids. Bella didn’t even know she had an elite, wealthy older stepsister until their father died and the estate records were unsealed."
The truth was laid bare right in front of us. More and more dark family secrets were showing their faces, exposing the brittle, toxic foundation of the alliance we were fighting. Miranda was using her trashy, desperate stepsister as a human shield, and Bella was trying to use Miranda’s wealth to force her way into Franklin’s life.
Franklin looked down at me.
"They have no idea what is coming for them tomorrow night, Octavia," Franklin whispered, his lips brushing against mine.
"Let them walk into the ballroom," I replied, a chilling, beautiful smile stretching across my face as I thought of the two sisters. "They are about to tear each other apart, and we are going to watch the empire burn them alive."
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