Olivia’s POV
The mont I realized it was my mother’s voice and not Kira’s, my entire body went rigid. My blood turned to ice as the full horror of my situation crashed over .
Fuck!
I couldn’t let her see like this. Disguised as a man and wailing like a child. How on earth would I explain my situation? The fake facial hair, the binding around my chest, the masculine clothes - there was no way to explain any of this to the ever dramatic Caitlyn Hopton.
I buried my face deeper between my knees, making myself as small as possible while my mum continued to rub soothing circles on my back.
"Sweetheart, what’s wrong?" Mom’s voice was filled with concern. "Kira let in when I got here, but she said you hadn’t co ho yet. When did you get back? And why are you dressed so... strangely?"
Where the fuck was Kira?
I kept my head down, my mind racing frantically. The prosthetic pieces on my face felt like they were burning against my skin. If Mom saw head-on, she’d imdiately know sothing was terribly wrong.
"Talk to , honey," Mom continued, her voice getting more worried by the second. "You’re scaring . Are you hurt? Did sothing happen at work?"
I could feel her shifting beside , trying to get a better look at my face. Panic surged through like electricity.
"I’m fine, Mom," I mumbled into my knees, keeping my voice as muffled as possible. "Just... just give a minute."
"A minute? You’re sitting on the floor crying like your world has ended, and you want to give you a minute?" Mom’s voice rose with each note. "Turn around and look at right now, Olivia Christine."
The use of my full na sent another wave of terror through . When Mom used my full na, it ant business. It ant she wasn’t going to back down until she got answers.
"I can’t," I whispered, my voice breaking.
"What do you an you can’t? Of course you can. I’m your mother, for goodness’ sake. I’ve seen you at your worst, rember? Food poisoning, broken hearts, your teenage self trying to cut your own bangs..." Mom’s voice softened. "Whatever it is, we can fix it together."
But this couldn’t be fixed. This was too insane, too complicated, too utterly ridiculous to explain to anyone, let alone my dramatic, traditional mother who still asked weekly when I was going to find a nice man and settle down.
I felt her hand touch my shoulder gently, and I knew she was about to try to turn around.
Without thinking, I bolted.
I sprung up from the floor like a rocket, keeping my head down and my hand strategically placed to block her view of my face. I dashed toward my bedroom like my life depended on it, moving faster than I’d ever moved before.
"Olivia!" Mom called after , her voice filled with alarm. "What in the world..."
I slamd my bedroom door behind and imdiately turned the lock, my heart hamring so hard I could hear it in my ears. My hands shook as I pressed my back against the door, trying to catch my breath.
From the hallway, I could hear Mom’s confused voice getting closer. "Olivia? Olivia, open this door right now! What’s going on? Why are you dressed like a man? Are you having so kind of breakdown? What happened to skirts and gowns? Is this how you’re going to find a good man to settle down with?!"
Oh God, she’d seen enough to know sothing was wrong.
"I’m fine, Mom!" I called through the door, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just... I need a shower. Can we talk later?"
"A shower? You need a shower right now? In the middle of a conversation?" Mom’s voice rose higher, "And what was that outfit? Were you wearing a fake beard and a n’s wig? Olivia, I’m calling your father!"
"No!" I nearly shouted, panic flooding through . "Don’t call Dad! Everything’s fine!"
But I could hear her moving around in the hallway, probably looking for her phone. This was escalating quickly into disaster territory.
Then, like an angel sent from heaven, I heard Kira’s voice.
"Mrs. Hopton? I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. I was just finishing up preparing my room for you."
"Kira, thank goodness," Mom said, her voice filled with relief. "Sothing’s wrong with Olivia. She’s acting very strange, and she was dressed like... like a man. Is she having so kind of identity crisis? Is she suddenly confused about her sexuality? Should I be worried?"
There was a pause, and I pressed my ear against the door, straining to hear Kira’s response.
"Oh, that," Kira said, her voice surprisedly calm. "She’s been working on a... a performance piece. You know how dramatic she gets about her hobbies. She’s been practicing this character for weeks."
"A performance piece?" Mom sounded skeptical. "What kind of performance piece requires her to dress like a man and cry on the floor? Besides, she’s a lawyer, not an actress."
"It’s for her company’s anniversary." Kira explained quickly. "She’s taking her role rather seriously. But I think she’s just exhausted right now. She’s been working so hard lately, and you know how she gets when she’s overtired."
I had to hand it to Kira - she was thinking on her feet better than I ever could have in that mont.
"I still want to talk to her," Mom said firmly. "I didn’t drive all the way across town just to be locked out of my own daughter’s bedroom."
"Of course, Mrs. Hopton. But maybe... maybe you should rest first? You’ve had a long day too, and Olivia might be more stable after she’s had a chance to rest."
There was another pause, and I could practically feel Mom’s internal debate happening in the hallway.
"I suppose you’re right," Mom finally said, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced. "I am pretty tired. But I want to talk to her first thing in the morning. And I an first thing, Kira. Before she disappears to work."
"Absolutely," Kira agreed. "I’ll make sure she’s available. Why don’t you get settled in my room? I’ve got fresh sheets on the bed and everything."
"Thank you, dear. You’re such a good friend to her." Mom’s voice was moving away from my door now. "I just worry about her, you know? She’s been so distant lately, and now this strange behavior..."
"She’s just going through a rough patch," Kira said gently. "But she’ll be fine. She always is."
I heard Mom’s footsteps retreating down the hallway, followed by the sound of Kira’s bedroom door closing. A few monts later, there was a knock on my door.
"Liv? It’s . She’s settled in my room."
I unlocked the door and opened it just enough to let Kira slip inside, then imdiately locked it again behind her.
"Holy shit," I whispered, collapsing onto my bed. "That was too close. You should’ve warned girl."
"I tried to. Check your phone."
I imdiately retrieved my phone from my bag, and true to her word, she’d dropped six missed calls, and several text ssages warning of the dragon’s arrival.
"Shit." I muttered.
Kira sat down beside , her expression filled with concern and exhaustion. "You want to tell why you ca ho crying like soone had died?"
I took a deep breath, "Today was a disaster," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "The worst day of my entire life."
"What happened?"
I took another shaky breath and began to tell her everything. About Maxwell’s cruelty, about being demoted to executive assistant, about the horrible eting in his office where he’d made feel like I was nothing. I told her about my confrontation with him in the parking garage, about accepting his conditions, about the growing certainty that he knew exactly who I was.
But the worst part - the part that made my chest ache with a fresh wave of pain - was telling her about the car ride with Alex and Vanessa.
"She’s perfect, Kira," I said, my voice breaking. "Absolutely perfect. Beautiful, successful, everything I’m not. And the way Alex looked at her..." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "It was so painful to watch."
"Liv..."
"And they’re having an engagent party. She invited to their engagent party, Kira. How fucked up is that? I’m supposed to stand there and watch the man I love celebrate getting engaged to soone else, all while pretending to be soone I’m not."
I buried my face in my hands, feeling the weight of everything crushing down on again. "I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending to be Oliver. I can’t keep lying to everyone. I can’t keep torturing myself by staying close to Alex when he’s never going to see the way I want him to."
Kira was quiet for a long mont, and when she finally spoke, her voice was gentle. "What do you want to do?"
"I want to quit," I said without hesitation. "I want to walk away from Wellington and Sons, from Maxwell Wellington, from this whole insane situation. I want to go back to being Olivia and try to piece together what’s left of my life."
"Okay," Kira said simply. "If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll figure out how to quit gracefully, and you can move on."
I looked up at her, surprised by her quick acceptance. "You’re not going to try to talk out of it?"
"Why would I?" Kira shrugged. "You’re miserable, Liv. You’ve been miserable for days. If this job is making you this unhappy, then it’s not worth it. No man is worth destroying yourself over."
Her words hit like a physical blow. She was right. I had been destroying myself - ntally, emotionally, physically. The binding around my chest felt tighter than ever, the prosthetics on my face itched constantly, and I was exhausted from maintaining the charade.
"But what about my mother?" I gestured toward the door. "How do I explain why I’m suddenly not working at a law firm anymore? How do I tell her I threw away an incredible opportunity at Harry and associates simply because I was chasing after a man who’s engaged to soone else?"
"We’ll figure sothing out," Kira said firmly. "We always do. But right now, you need to focus on taking care of yourself. This whole situation has gotten way too complicated and stressful."
I nodded, feeling so of the tension leave my shoulders. The decision to quit felt like lifting a thousand-pound weight off my chest.
"There’s just one problem," I said quietly.
"What’s that?"
"I accepted Maxwell’s conditions. I told him I’d be his executive assistant. If I quit now, after agreeing to work for him directly..." I shuddered. "He’ll make sure I never work at another law firm in this city. Maybe not even in this state."
Kira frowned. "Can he really do that?"
"Maxwell Wellington has connections everywhere. If he wanted to blacklist , he could do it with a few phone calls." I sighed heavily. "I’m trapped, Kira. If I stay, I’m miserable. If I go, I might never practice law again."
"Then we’ll figure out a way to make staying bearable," Kira said decisively. "At least until you can find another job. Maybe working as his assistant won’t be as bad as you think. You said yourself that his forr assistants went on to have successful careers."
I wanted to believe her, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Maxwell Wellington had so kind of agenda. The way he’d looked at , the things he’d said, the timing of his demotion - it all felt too calculated to be coincidental.
"I think he knows, Kira," I said quietly. "I think he knows I’m Olivia Hopton. He has to. Olivia Hopton was just in his Dr. Heart’s office a week ago, now Oliver Hopton is in his company, working alongside Olivia’s love interest."
Kira’s eyes widened. "That didn’t cross my mind, but it’s a possibility, Liv."
"Yes it is. And the way he made shave in his office, the questions he asked, the timing of everything. It’s like he’s playing so kind of ga with ."
"But if he knows, why hasn’t he exposed you?"
"I don’t know," I admitted. "That’s what scares the most. If he knows and he’s keeping quiet, it ans he wants sothing from . And I have no idea what that sothing is."
We sat in silence for a mont, both lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Kira spoke.
"Well, whatever happens, we’ll face it together. If he approaches you about being the Olivia that turned up in his Dr. Heart’s office, you just lie that You’re Olivia’s twin brother."
I instantly threw back my head and burst into laughter.
"What the fuck, Kira. Your brain works like magic."
She winked, "That’s what I’m here for."
I studied my reflection in the mirror from across my bed and nodded. "I do look like Kendrick though." Then I smiled sheepishly, "My mom would kill if she finds out I’m impersonating her son at work."
"Yeah... Speaking of the drama Queen, how do you plan on evading her tomorrow morning? She did look damn serious about wanting to speak with you."
"Damn!" I exclaid, flinging myself on the bed in exhaustion.
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