Ophelia Gets Thrown Out (Ophelia) novel Chapter 45

**Paths Lead To Purpose — Kevin Masters**

**Chapter 45**

Ophelia inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the moment settle over her. It was a decision she hadn’t wanted to make, but the circumstances left her little choice.

“Dylan, since Mr. Caldwell appears to have taken a keen interest in my new car, I think it’s best if you and Owen stay here while I take it for a spin.” The words slipped from her lips, heavy with resignation, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth as she uttered them.

“But you—” Dylan’s expression clouded with concern, his brow furrowing as he sensed her unease. He could see that Ophelia was desperate to distance herself from Alaric, and it gnawed at him.

Ophelia managed a faint smile, trying to reassure him. “Don’t worry, Dylan. It’s just a brief test drive. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Despite her words, Dylan sighed, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “Alright then. Owen and I will wait here.”

He couldn’t shake the feeling that Alaric had something up his sleeve, but he held onto the hope that the man wouldn’t dare to harm her. All he could do now was stand by and observe, a silent guardian.

“Be careful, Ophelia,” Owen called out, his voice laced with genuine concern as she walked away.

Ophelia’s lips curled into a small smile as she reached back to ruffle his hair affectionately. “I will.”

Then, she turned her attention to Alaric, her demeanor shifting as her eyes hardened. “Mr. Caldwell, after you.”

“My pleasure,” Alaric replied, an air of amusement dancing in his voice as he disregarded her frosty tone, opening the car door for her with a flourish.

With a swift motion, Ophelia slid into the driver’s seat. Before he could close the door behind her, she yanked it shut herself, as if that thin barrier could protect her from his presence.

Alaric’s amusement only deepened at her small act of defiance. The glimmer in his eyes suggested he found her resistance both entertaining and charming.

He settled into the passenger seat, fastening his seatbelt with a casual nonchalance.

“Let’s go,” he chimed, his voice bright and cheerful.

There was something about her flustered expression that always seemed to lift his spirits. At least when she was angry, she was engaging with him—far better than her usual cold indifference.

Dropping the teasing facade, he added in a softer tone, “It could’ve been a delightful coincidence, you know. If Ms. Rowle weren’t so intent on keeping me at a distance, I might’ve played it differently. Perhaps even more romantically.”

“Romantic or not,” Ophelia replied coolly, “it’s still merely a performance. Don’t start believing your own script.”

Her words struck a chord, and for once, Alaric’s smile faltered, replaced by a rare seriousness that hovered in the air between them. “What if I said I truly meant it?” he murmured, his voice low and earnest. “Up until now, you’re the only woman I’ve ever waited longer than a few minutes for.”

He wasn’t lying.

Ophelia arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Do you genuinely believe that yourself?”

‘Please, every wealthy playboy in high society has pursued a dozen women. These lines are so cliché,’ she thought, rolling her eyes internally.

They had barely crossed paths a handful of times; any notion of understanding was laughable, let alone feelings.

‘Fall for me? Please,’ Ophelia scoffed inwardly. ‘Has he been playing this role for so long that he’s begun to believe his own fabrications?’