Ophelia Gets Thrown Out (Ophelia) novel Chapter 47

**Paths Lead To Purpose — Kevin Masters**
**Chapter 47**

Ophelia let out a derisive snort, shaking her head as she glanced at Alaric. “I have to give you credit, Mr. Caldwell. Most people would be losing their lunch in my car right about now, but you? You’ve got some real guts.”

Alaric caught her curious gaze and responded with a subtle smile, the corners of his mouth lifting just enough to hint at amusement. “With a driver as skilled as you, Ophelia, how could I possibly succumb to motion sickness?”

Her sharp intake of breath revealed her irritation, and she clenched her jaw tightly, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Mr. Caldwell, I’m warning you for the last time. Stop calling me Ophelia as if we’re friends.”

“Alright, Ophelia,” he retorted effortlessly, his tone playful, not missing a beat in their banter.

“You—” Her fingers twitched with barely contained anger. The urge to punch him was almost overwhelming, a primal instinct to assert herself against his relentless teasing.

Just then, a salesperson rushed over as the car came to a stop, her demeanor shifting to one of exaggerated respect. “Miss, are you satisfied with the car?”

“It’s fine. I’ll take it.” Ophelia’s patience was wearing thin; she wanted to wrap up this transaction quickly. The last thing she wanted was to prolong her time with Alaric.

“Great! I’ll get the paperwork started right away,” the salesperson replied, her tone now brisk and efficient as she hurried off to take care of everything for Ophelia.

Before the woman could turn away, Alaric’s voice cut through lazily, “Put it on my account. Consider it a gift for my fiancée.”

The salesperson froze, her eyes widening in disbelief.

‘Wait, she’s actually Mr. Caldwell’s fiancée?’ the thought raced through her mind, completely taken aback by the revelation.

Just as she was about to nod in agreement, Ophelia stepped out of the car, her voice cool and crisp, slicing through the tension. “No need for that. This car is a gift from Oliver to me.”

“Mr. Caldwell,” she continued, her tone sharp as a blade, “if you want to give someone a present, I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who would be thrilled to receive it.”

“But I only want to give it to you,” Alaric replied quietly, his gaze steady and serious, as if he were revealing a hidden truth.

No other woman in his life could ever deserve such a gift.

With a jingle of the car keys in her hand, Ophelia turned to Dylan and Owen. “Dylan, Owen, let’s head home.”

“Got it.” Owen sprang into action, jogging over to her side and looping his arm through hers. “Let’s go home, Ophelia.”

With a triumphant glance thrown back at Alaric, he lifted his chin defiantly, like a victorious little knight. ‘Hmph. We’re leaving. You don’t get to follow her,’ Owen thought, his youthful bravado shining through.

Alaric could only watch the kid, a mix of amusement and helplessness washing over him.

‘I haven’t even done anything to earn this hostility. Why’s he holding such a grudge?’ Alaric wondered, feeling a twinge of confusion.

“Mr. Caldwell,” Dylan interjected politely, his voice calm yet distant, “we’ll be on our way.”

Alaric inclined his head in acknowledgment, his eyes flicking back to Ophelia with that same playful glint. “My door’s always open, Ophelia. You’re welcome to drop by anytime.”

Ophelia couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his persistent bravado. ‘Good grief. Does this man ever stop showing off? Like a peacock, constantly fanning his feathers, no matter the occasion,’ she thought, exasperation mingling with an undeniable intrigue.