Ophelia Gets Thrown Out (Ophelia) novel Chapter 9

**Paths Lead To Purpose — Kevin Masters**
**Chapter 9**

“Got it,” Ella replied, her voice tinged with a sense of familiarity. The client was not just a regular; he was practically family, and that made her agreement feel as natural as breathing. After a few more instructions were exchanged, Ophelia finally ended the call, a sense of satisfaction washing over her.

As soon as she disconnected, she turned her attention to her laptop, her fingers poised over the keyboard. The glow of the screen illuminated her focused expression. In her inbox, she noticed that Alaric had already sent over Zachary’s comprehensive medical data from earlier that afternoon. Just as she began to sift through the information, a text message chimed in on her phone, breaking her concentration.

Alaric: [Dr. Vossen, everything for tomorrow’s surgery has been arranged. You can come anytime to operate on my grandfather.]

“Alaric really works fast,” Ophelia murmured to herself, a hint of admiration slipping into her tone.

Her mind raced with thoughts of the upcoming surgery. *Good. Once I finish Zachary’s surgery tomorrow and wrap up everything concerning the Rowle family, I can finally head back to the company,* she contemplated, a sense of relief mingling with anticipation.

As dusk settled in, Ophelia was just about done signing the documents Ella had sent over when a servant knocked gently on her office door, announcing that dinner was ready. Taking a moment to consider her parents’ feelings, she rifled through her wardrobe, selecting an outfit that struck a balance between professional and approachable. After changing, she made her way downstairs, her heart beating softly in rhythm with her footsteps.

The moment she stepped out of the elevator and into the dining room, a young voice pierced the air. “So, you’re Ophelia?”

She turned to see a boy seated at the dining table, his age somewhere between twelve and thirteen. Yet, there was a surprising depth in his gaze that belied his youth. His features mirrored her own, a familial resemblance that tugged at her heartstrings.

Ophelia had already familiarized herself with the Rowle family’s profile, so she smiled, her lips curving into a warm expression. “You must be Owen.”

Owen Rowle, the youngest son of Adrian, was a prodigy at his tender age of twelve. Known for his exceptional IQ and remarkable hacking skills, he had already racked up multiple awards in national IT competitions.

“You know me?” Owen asked, his eyes narrowing slightly, suspicion evident in his tone as if she were an uninvited guest intruding upon his domain.

“Of course,” Ophelia replied, her voice light. “You’re the youngest in the family. You have a passion for IT and artificial intelligence, you enjoy fish, and your favorite color is blue. Did I get that right?”

Zoe’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. *See? Even if Ophelia’s back, she can’t replace the eighteen years of bond I’ve built with this family. She’ll always be the outsider,* she thought smugly, reveling in her perceived victory.

Ophelia merely arched an eyebrow, choosing to ignore Zoe’s antics. Instead, she pulled out her phone, holding up an electronic invitation with a flourish. “I heard you’re into IT. There’s an upcoming industry lecture that’s quite prestigious. I thought you might be interested.”

This was a gesture she had planned since she first saw Owen’s profile—a small gift, a thoughtful icebreaker for their first meeting. Owen glanced at her with casual indifference, but as his eyes fell upon the invitation on her phone, they widened in disbelief. “Depson University’s IT Lecture invitation? Are you serious?”

All his defensiveness melted away in an instant. He snatched her phone to examine it more closely, and when he spotted the university’s official seal, his entire demeanor transformed. “Only invited guests can attend this. How did you get one?”

He had always dreamed of attending but hadn’t yet qualified; the lecture was reserved for those who had won at least ten international competitions, a milestone he had yet to reach.

“They invite me every year,” Ophelia replied nonchalantly, gliding into the dining room with an effortless grace. “I’m too busy to attend this time, so I can transfer my spot to a friend.”