Chapter 526 From Now On, I Will Be Gentle!
Calliope was no longer a naive girl.
After her tears had dried, she seemed to regain her composure, though Octavius refused to let her leave, confining her to the villa.
He had arranged for Elspeth to be brought over. As evening fell, the sound of a car pulling into the courtyard below drifted up, accompanied by the murmur of women's voices.
Calliope had bathed and changed into a moonlight-pale silk nightgown. She sat curled on the sofa by the floor-to-ceiling windows, nursing a glass of wine in solitude.
The bedroom door creaked open, and Octavius entered. He too had showered and changed into fresh shirt and trousers. There was a satisfied glow about him—the unmistakable air of a man who had recently been intimate with someone.
He approached her with gentle familiarity, his arm sliding around her shoulders as he spoke with tender concern. "You won't eat, yet here you are drinking. Wine on an empty stomach will only hurt you."
Calliope let out a bitter laugh. She pressed her delicate oval face against the expensive sofa cushion, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't you find it absurd? You were so brutal with me in the car—did you think of my well-being then? Why this sudden show of concern now? Your crocodile tears are wasted on me."
Octavius flushed with shame. Knowing he was in the wrong only made him more solicitous. "It was my fault—I'd been too long without a woman. Calliope, since you've been in my heart, I haven't touched another soul."
He made his promise with earnest conviction. "I'll be gentle from now on."
Eager to please her, he continued, "I've brought Elspeth here. She'll stay with you now. You wanted her to have proper documentation—I can register her under my name when we return to Harmony City. If you prefer life in Evergreen City, I could request a transfer here, though you know how demanding things are in Harmony City right now."
His words were carefully crafted, leaving himself room to maneuver. Calliope wasn't fooled—she knew he was reluctant to abandon his position of power in Harmony City, where starting over would mean answering to Oliver. He had no real intention of coming here.
Not that she wanted him to.
She fixed him with a cold stare. "What gives you the right to bring Elspeth here? Did I agree to this? Did I consent to reconciling with you? What makes you think that forcing yourself on me once gives you any claim over me—that I'll suddenly become your obedient little wife?"
Her voice turned venomous. "Is it because of your pathetic performance? Or perhaps you think your mediocre skills in bed were somehow impressive?"
Octavius's face darkened. He snatched the wine glass from her hands, his voice rising in anger. "Calliope, you're going too far—"
She cut him off with a laugh, finishing his thought. "Too far? Ungrateful? Octavius, do you think I wanted any of this? If you hadn't forced me, I wouldn't attend your funeral even if you died tomorrow."
Their argument reached an impasse, and he stormed toward the door. With his hand on the handle, he spoke in a controlled voice heavy with suppression. "The child is here now. Stay a few days and think it over. Having Elspeth take my surname would be best for her. Perhaps when you've had time to consider, you'll come to your senses."
Calliope remained silent.
Octavius left, closing the door behind him and leaning against it in the hallway. The crystal chandelier cast light and shadow across his face, accentuating the sharp planes of his features.
He had spent his entire life clawing his way up from nothing. For advancement, he had compromised his conscience countless times and used countless women. He had never truly loved anyone—not even during his marriage to Calliope, which he had viewed as a strategic alliance with a capable, socially adept woman.
They had supported each other, climbed together to the pinnacle of success. He had felt no gratitude.
Even then, he had continued his affairs, confident that she wouldn't sacrifice her status as his wife. He had known she loved him, but he had callously trampled on her devotion. Having clawed his way up from the gutter, whatever capacity for genuine feeling he might once have possessed had long since been ground away.
Love, he had always believed, was a luxury reserved for those born to privilege—not for someone like him.
But now his heart belonged to her. For the first time, he was willing to forsake all others for a woman. For the first time, he was prepared to remain faithful. For the first time, he was ready to raise another man's child as his own, to love her as if she were his own flesh and blood.
But she wanted none of it.
Downstairs, two nannies stood with Elspeth, their faces etched with anxiety. When they saw Octavius, they called out urgently, "Sir, where is our mistress?"
Octavius didn't answer. He walked directly to them, studying the little girl in the nanny's arms. At fifteen months, she was fair and beautiful—strikingly reminiscent of Sarah.
Elspeth gazed back at him with bright, curious eyes.
"Let me hold her," he said gently. The nanny immediately transferred the child to his arms, adding helpfully, "She's very affectionate with people she knows. Whenever Mr. Driscoll visits, she calls him uncle so sweetly."
Mr. Driscoll? Pembroke?
The information stung, but Octavius showed no reaction. He held Elspeth's small, warm body and spoke to her with tender patience. "Elspeth, I'm your daddy."
The child stared at him solemnly. Just when Octavius thought she would reject him, Elspeth wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and nestled against his shoulder.
The little girl remained silent, her pale, delicate face scrunched into an adorable pout that made her appear impossibly precious.
Something melted inside Octavius's chest. He found himself imagining that Elspeth was truly his and Calliope's child, that Nicholas and Azalea had never existed. With one dead and the other having taken religious vows, wasn't Elspeth obviously theirs?
He lavished attention on the child, and though she still wouldn't call him daddy, he felt no frustration. Instead, he instructed the staff to prepare a suitable dinner, announcing that he, his wife, and daughter would dine together in the second-floor sitting room.
While the servants prepared the meal, he sat on the sofa with Elspeth, entertaining her with toys. After considerable coaxing, she finally graced him with a smile.
A child's smile was like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. The sight made Octavius's throat tighten with emotion as he pressed his face against her warm little body, his voice catching with a hint of plaintive longing. "If only your mother were half as obedient as you."
At the top of the stairs, Calliope stood gripping the banister, watching silently. She observed Octavius accepting Elspeth, witnessed his tenderness with the child—everything that had once been her dream. Earlier that year, she had written to him, addressing him by his given name, telling him how desperately she longed for him to come Evergreen City so they could be a family.
Back then, she had been so confident, so certain that they were both wounded souls who understood and treasured each other—that they would always be each other's first choice.
But she had been wrong. He hadn't wanted her. He had turned instead to young Seraphine, drawn by novelty and excitement.
Suddenly, Octavius looked up and saw her there, catching the glimmer of tears in her eyes.
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