Revenge Of The Jilted Bride (Ophelia) novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14 

Kenneth glanced at his phone, noticing two missed calls from Ophelia back at home. His mood instantly brightened. A warmth spread through him, brightening his mood instantly. The mere thought of her was enough to chase away the cloud of annoyance that had settled over the morning. 

“Take a thirty–minute break,” he announced. 

The room fell into a stunned silence. No one dared to move until Mark, sensing their hesitation, repeated the order. Slowly, they shuffled out, bewildered. 

“Has Mr. Sinclair gone soft today? He never allows meetings to be interrupted,” one whispered. 

“Do you think he’s sick? He’s been coughing a lot,” another murmured. 

“He’s still so young and weak?” someone muttered ominously. 

“Don’t talk nonsense,” some other person said. 

Back in the office, Kenneth stared at his phone, a trace of amusement on his face. Does she miss me that much? he mused. 

Mark’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Mr. Kenneth, Miss Ophelia visited Hastings Villa today. Afterward, she went to Everland Hotel. Just as you instructed, our people let her slip in herself without help. But Mr. Patrick happened to be at the hotel as well. Miss Ophelia disguised herself as a cleaning staff and was called into Mr. Patrick’s room by his men….” 

Kenneth’s expression darkened, the air around him chilling to ice. 

“But she was thrown out before long,” Mark quickly explained, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Mr. Patrick likely has 

idea who she really is. But, uh… do you have any idea what she’s up to?” 

Kenneth’s gaze softened, and he gave a casual wave. “Let her do whatever she wants. Just keep her safe. Don’t get too involved. She needs to have a little sense of achievement and feel like she’s accomplished something on her own.” 

Just then, his phone rang again. The name ‘Little One‘ flashed on the screen. 

He picked it up, and Ophelia’s soft, honeyed voice flowed through the line. “Kenneth, I heard there was going to be some action at Avalon Port tonight–something dangerous involving that shipment. It might be trouble for you.” 

Is she worried about me? Kenneth’s lips twitched into a smile he couldn’t quite suppress. 

“Hello? Kenneth, are you even listening to me!” Ophelia’s voice was filled with confusion on the other end. 

“Yeah,” Kenneth replied, his tone as nonchalant as ever. 

Ophelia was baffled at first, but when she heard his calm response, it clicked. “Wait… You already knew? You set them up, didn’t 

you? 

“Yes,” he admitted. 

Realizing she’d worried for nothing, Ophelia couldn’t help but laugh to herself. ‘Of course, he knew. Nothing escapes Kenneth’s grasp, she thought, rendered speechless. She suddenly understood why he played the part of the man in the wheelchair–every move was calculated. 

“Alright then, she pondered, her concerns finally put to rest. 

After hanging up, Mark stood nearby, puzzled. He was grinning just now when she called. But all he said on the call was… two 

words?” 

Kenneth set his phone down, his fingers casually rubbing the silver hand on his pinky. “Can’t spoil her too much, or she’ll be impossible to handle.” 

e who said to keep her safe, to give her a little sense of achievement? Mark 

Mark blinked, incredulous. “Wait, wasn’t he the one was at a loss for words. “This is what not spoiling her looks like?‘ 

L/B 

Chapter it 

Meanwhile, Ophelia had already moved on to her next mission. She stood in the sterile, white halls of a hospital, overseeing the DNA test that would finally confirm her suspicions. With the samples of Owen’s and Emily’s hair in hand, she filled out the necessary paperwork 

“Results will be ready in seven working days, the clerk informed her as Ophelia nodded, her mind already spinning ahead. 

Leaving the hospital, she took a subway to the suburbs, changing trains several times before she arrived at her destination. 

A small, white cottage by the lake stood waiting. As she approached, a small head popped out from the balcony on the second floor. “Elia, you’re finally here to see me,” a young boy’s voice called out, full of excitement. 

Wyatt Stevens, only five years old, had an adorable, cherubic face with sharp, delicate features. His long lashes framed large doe–like eyes, and his voice still carried the sweetness of childhood. 

Next to him rose a slender figure–a woman with a serene elegance. Chloe Stevens, Wyatt’s mother, had a gentle air about her, but her piercing eyes–like those of a siren–hinted at a colder, more aloof nature. “You’re here,” Chloe said softly as Ophelia approached. 

The moment Ophelia stepped through the front door, Wyatt shot down the stairs like a little missile and launched himself 

into her arms. 

“Wyatt, have you been a good boy lately?” Ophelia smiled, ruffling his soft hair affectionately. 

Wyatt grinned, his little chest puffing with pride. “I’ve been really good. I eat all my meals and take my medicine on time, don’t I, Mommy?” he beamed. 

Chloe smiled back, her voice tinged with warmth as she answered, “Yes, you do.” 

After chatting with them for a bit, Chloe crouched down and gently said to Wyatt, Sweetheart, why don’t you go play by yourself for a little while, okay?” 

Reluctantly, Wyatt untangled himself from Ophelia’s embrace and wandered into the living room. quietly playing with his blocks on the floor. 

Watching his little, adorable figure. Ophelia felt both affection and helplessness. 

She began, “Chloe, remember the gown sale you helped me with? Didn’t we agree on a seventy–thirty split?” As she spoke, Ophelia pulled a card from her bag and pressed it into Chloe’s hand. “Wyatt’s treatment still needs money, and I can’t let you help me for free.” 

Chloe’s eyes showed a flicker of exhaustion as she responded, “I can’t take your money anymore. You’ve provided for us all these years and even put a roof over our heads.” 

“Take it. Consider it as an advance on your salary. There’s plenty more for you to help me with.” Ophelia wasn’t one for beating around the bush. She explained her plans for the future, getting straight to the point. 

Of course, Chloe was beyond supportive. Years ago, after an unplanned pregnancy got her kicked out of her family and left her to fend for herself in the slums, it was Ophelia and her adoptive mother Gabrielle Spencer, who had saved Chloe and Wyatt from despair. 

“If Gabrielle knew, she would be so proud of you,” Chloe said with a warm smile. 

Ophelia nodded, her gaze drifting to a framed photograph on the nearby table. It showed an elderly woman with snow–white hair sitting elegantly in an embroidered evening gown, her face softened by a gentle smile, but those eyes were dull and lifeless, looking down 

If Gabrielle hadn’t found her and taken her in from the cold, desolate streets of the slums, Ophelia would’ve been dead in that snow long ago.