Ophelia Gets Thrown Out (Ophelia) novel Chapter 61

**Paths Lead To Purpose — Kevin Masters**

**Chapter 61**

Daphne simmered with indignation, her thoughts a tempest of frustration. ‘Who does Ophelia think she is? It’s been barely a week since she waltzed back into our lives, and already she’s treating Zoe like a mere pawn. Just because Grandpa has taken a shine to her doesn’t give her the right to act so superior.’ The unfairness of it all gnawed at her, igniting a fire within.

Ophelia’s gaze was like ice, cool and calculating. “By all means, enlighten me. What sort of attitude would you consider appropriate?” Her words dripped with condescension, and it was evident that she relished this confrontation, her confidence radiating in the charged atmosphere.

Daphne felt a rush of solidarity with Zoe, their unspoken alliance palpable. Only someone as naive as Daphne could fall for Zoe’s feeble act of innocence. ‘Does she really think she can play the victim here?’ The thought made Daphne’s blood boil.

Under Ophelia’s scrutinizing stare, Daphne felt her breath hitch momentarily, a flicker of uncertainty creeping in. But that moment of vulnerability only stoked her fury further. ‘Am I really letting her intimidate me? Absolutely not. She’s just a stray, a nobody picked up from who knows where. That commanding presence of hers? Just a facade.’

With her jaw clenched in defiance, Daphne shot back a glare that could pierce steel. “Who do you think you’re glaring at? I’m nothing like soft-hearted Zoe. You may carry the Rowle name, but you’re utterly clueless about this family’s dynamics.”

“I suggest you tread carefully unless you want to become the laughingstock of the family so soon after your return,” she added, her voice laced with venom.

“Embarrass the Rowles?” Ophelia raised an eyebrow, her expression one of unimpressed amusement. “I don’t recall causing any disgrace today. Though I can’t say the same for you. Your theatrics are what truly lack decorum.”

Her gaze swept over Daphne, lingering just long enough to convey her disdain, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

Daphne felt her face flush with rage, her heart pounding in her chest. Ophelia’s expression seemed to mock her, as if she were the one making a fool of herself with every haughty gesture.

“How dare you!” Daphne spat, her composure fracturing under the weight of her fury. “Clearly, you’ve never been put in your place.” In a moment of blind anger, she shoved Ophelia hard.

Ophelia, with a dismissive scoff, sidestepped effortlessly, only to collide with a solid, unexpected form.

Startled, she looked up into Alaric’s intense, deep-set eyes. ‘What is he doing here?’ The thought flitted through her mind, a mixture of surprise and irritation.

“Are you all right?” His voice was low, a faint crease forming between his brows, concern evident in his tone.

“Hardly a threat,” she replied flatly, dismissing the entire altercation as pathetically juvenile.

Satisfied that she was unharmed, Alaric turned his icy gaze toward Daphne. “Know your place. She is not yours to discipline.”

Daphne flinched, her bravado crumbling as the color drained from her face. There was an unsettling chill in Alaric’s expression, a warning that sent shivers down her spine.

“Mr. Caldwell, I… I didn’t mean to…” The words tangled in her throat, her fiery temper momentarily quelled by the weight of his authority.

Nearby, Zoe stood frozen, her complexion as pale as a ghost. Alaric had come to Ophelia’s aid, shielding her from Daphne’s fury. Now, he was defending her with an intensity that felt possessive.

‘Does he truly care for her?’ A cold dread seeped through Zoe, and she began to tremble at the thought.

Forcing a mask of calm, she stepped forward, her voice dripping with feigned concern. “Ophelia, are you okay? Daphne didn’t mean it. She just lost her temper.”

She reached out, attempting to break the intimate contact between Ophelia and Alaric, but her true intention was much darker.

In one fluid motion, Alaric drew Ophelia closer, his arm a firm barrier around her waist. “Step back.”

Zoe’s hand grasped at empty air, the rejection hitting her like a physical blow, leaving her momentarily breathless.

Ophelia’s senses sharpened, and she became acutely aware of Alaric’s arm still draped around her shoulders. A faint crease appeared between her brows as she stepped out of his embrace. “Thanks for your help,” she said, her tone polite yet distant, a hint of coolness lacing her words. “I’m quite alright now.”

Alaric’s arm lingered in the air for a moment before he finally let it fall, a strange impulse to pull her back igniting within him.

Ophelia’s eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly as she observed Zoe’s performance with detached amusement, thinking, ‘Here we go again.’

Zoe had perfected the art of being the delicate, gracious lady.

With a few carefully chosen words, she had subtly distanced Ophelia from Alaric, positioned herself as having a prior understanding with him, and neatly secured a place at his side for the evening.

A spark of curiosity ignited within Ophelia. She wondered how Alaric would possibly decline such a gracefully laid trap.

She glanced up and found his eyes already on her, a flicker of understanding passing between them.

He read the faint amusement in her gaze, and a wave of frustration washed over him. Was she truly so eager to be rid of him?

A roguish light gleamed in his eyes as he turned back to Zoe with a thoughtful nod. “That is a very considerate suggestion,” he said, his tone grave yet teasing.

Zoe’s face lit up with hopeful surprise. “Then you agree, Mr. Caldwell?”

After all these years of him keeping his distance, he was finally responding. She had always known he couldn’t ignore her forever.

Ophelia may be the true Rowle daughter, but Zoe was the one who had grown up here, the one who had shared a childhood with him.

“We should proceed,” Zoe urged gently, a delicate blush gracing her cheeks. “We mustn’t keep Grandpa waiting.”

But Alaric’s attention had already returned to Ophelia, a slow, deliberate smile playing on his lips. “In that case,” he declared, his voice clear and carrying, “I shall entrust myself to Ms. Ophelia Rowle’s care for the evening.”

“Of course,” Zoe began automatically, before his words fully registered. Her smile froze, then shattered into stunned disbelief. “I… I beg your pardon, Mr. Caldwell? What did you say?”