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?”

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