Ophelia Gets Thrown Out (Ophelia) novel Chapter 40

### Paths Lead To Purpose — Kevin Masters
**Chapter 40**

Ophelia had always possessed a keen understanding of automobiles, a knowledge that set her apart from many of her peers. The car that Oliver had gifted her was nothing short of extraordinary—this year’s latest limited edition, a coveted model that only a select few could acquire, requiring both substantial wealth and influential connections. Even before it officially entered the market, it had stirred a frenzy among enthusiasts eager to claim it as their own.

Yet here was Oliver, with an effortless nonchalance, casually handing it over to her as if it were merely an everyday item.

Dylan and Owen stood nearby, their expressions mirroring disbelief. They had never anticipated such a lavish present from Oliver, especially so soon after his return. The gesture made their own preparations feel woefully inadequate, as if they had overlooked something fundamental.

“Oliver, we’re still just students. We don’t really need cars, and besides, the drivers take us back and forth from school,” Zoe interjected, her voice tinged with barely contained jealousy. The words tumbled out before she could stop herself, a reflexive reaction to the overwhelming envy that bubbled within her.

After all, Zoe had spent countless years living in the Rowle household, yet neither her parents nor Oliver had ever deemed it necessary to gift her a car. She had always relied on the family’s drivers and vehicles for her school commute, and now, a surge of resentment coursed through her thoughts. *What right does Ophelia have to receive such a gift?* Zoe wondered bitterly.

Oliver, however, seemed unfazed by her outburst. “It’s perfectly fine, as long as Ophelia likes it,” he replied, his gaze unwavering as he turned his attention back to Ophelia.

With a hint of arrogance, he added, “Of course, if this car doesn’t suit your taste, just let me know what you would prefer.”

The implication was unmistakable—whatever Ophelia desired, he would procure it for her without hesitation.

Ophelia, overwhelmed by the sheer generosity of the moment, felt a smile spread across her face. The car was indeed a rare find, a treasure that even the wealthiest individuals might struggle to acquire. “Thank you, Oliver. I really like it,” she replied, her voice warm and sincere. In truth, she had been planning to get a car anyway, and this one aligned perfectly with her style and preferences.

Zoe’s teeth clenched in frustration, the sound almost audible as she fought to maintain her composure.

She had always believed that Oliver was the one who cared for her most in this family, convinced that once he returned, she would reclaim her place in his affections. But now, it was painfully clear that his loyalty lay elsewhere, and the realization stung like a fresh wound.

*I never got a car, so why does Ophelia get one the moment she walks through the door?* The thought simmered in her mind, a bitter mantra. “As long as you like it,” Oliver said, his expression softening as he looked at Ophelia with unmistakable warmth.

Despite having spoiled Zoe in the past, there had always been a barrier between them; she was not his biological daughter. Their relationship felt more like an obligation than genuine affection. Yet, when Oliver gazed at Zoe, he couldn’t help but see her mother’s reflection, and something tender flickered in his otherwise cold heart.

He had never received a gift before, so he lifted his chin with an air of optimism, inviting Oliver to sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee.

“Coffee made by Ophelia?” Oliver asked, his interest piqued as he took a seat.

“Since Oliver likes milkshakes, he should drink it,” Ophelia said softly, recalling Zoe’s earlier comment about Oliver’s preferences. She didn’t want to impose but felt a desire to please him.

With a gentle hand, she picked up the cup that Chloe had placed in front of her earlier, ready to offer it to Oliver.

“Oliver, drink this one,” Zoe interjected, her expression shifting slightly in surprise as she realized Ophelia was handing her milkshake to him. In a hurry, she offered up another cup nearby, her discomfort evident.

At that moment, Ophelia caught an unusual scent wafting from her own cup, and her brow furrowed involuntarily. *What is that smell?* she pondered, a sense of unease settling in her stomach.

After a brief hesitation, she carefully sniffed both milkshakes before placing her cup back down. “Oliver, I think you should try the coffee I made instead,” she suggested, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.