Olivia’s POV
The mont I was alone in my room, my legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor, my back against the door, my clothes dropping to the floor.
What have I done? What the hell have I done?
A thousand terrifying questions flooded my mind at once:
Had he woken up during the night? Had he noticed anything off about ? Had he seen naked? Had he finally discovered my secret?
Oh God, what if he knows?
Panic seized my chest, making it hard to breathe.
But then... logic started to seep through the fear.
If he knew, wouldn’t he have woken up? Wouldn’t he have demanded an explanation? Wouldn’t he have thrown out of his bed - out of his house - the mont he realized his male assistant was actually a woman?
Maxwell wasn’t exactly known for his patience or restraint. If he’d discovered the truth, he would have confronted imdiately. Wouldn’t he?
I took a shaky breath, then another.
He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. I was sure of it.
He’d been drunk - completely out of it, not just tipsy. He’d thought I was his mysterious Olivia the entire ti. And he’d probably passed out afterward and slept so deeply he hadn’t noticed anything unusual.
Yes. That’s it. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t suspect anything.
To confirm my theory, I’d just go downstairs for breakfast like normal. Watch his reaction. See if he acted suspicious or different or like he’d discovered the truth.
And if he seed normal - well, as normal as Maxwell ever seed - then I was in the clear.
The panic started to recede, replaced slowly by sothing else.
A warmth spreading through my body. A flutter in my stomach. A smile tugging at my lips despite everything.
Oh my God.
Last night.
Last night.
It had been... incredible. Everything I’d ever imagined it could be with him and so much more. Maxwell had been intense and passionate and surprisingly tender, and my body had responded to his in ways I hadn’t known were possible. The sa way it’d responded to my stranger.
Even now, hours later, I could still feel his hands on my skin. Could still hear the rough timbre of his voice in my ear. Could still feel the delicious ache between my legs that reminded of exactly what we’d done.
I stood up slowly from the floor, my legs still slightly shaky, and caught my reflection in my own mirror.
The smile on my face was undeniable. Satisfied and secret and thoroughly debauched.
Stop smiling. This is serious. This is a disaster.
But I couldn’t stop. Because beneath the panic and the worry and the knowledge that I’d made possibly the worst decision of my life...
I felt amazing.
My body felt loose and relaxed in a way it hadn’t since before this whole charade began. All that tension, all that stress, all those tight muscles from binding and hunching - gone. Healed by one incredible night with...
I froze mid-step.
Oh God.
Maxwell had co inside .
And I hadn’t been on birth control. Hadn’t taken any precautions. Hadn’t even thought about protection because I’d been too lost in the mont to think about anything except how good it felt.
Shit. Shit, shit, SHIT. Why do I always make this sa mistake?
I needed Plan B. Needed ergency contraception. Needed to take it as soon as possible before...
But how?
I was trapped in this house, imprisoned as a man. I couldn’t exactly waltz down to a pharmacy as Oliver and ask for ergency contraception without raising so seriously awkward questions.
Maybe Rita could help? I could ask her to...
No.
I stared at my reflection and realized I couldn’t ask Rita. Not like this. Not without my disguise.
And if I asked her while dressed as Oliver? She’d definitely report such a strange request to Maxwell. Might even ntion it casually at breakfast or...
No. Bad idea. Very bad idea.
I’d have to figure sothing else out. Maybe I could sneak out later, find a pharmacy, buy it myself. Sohow. Without Jones the driver following everywhere. Without Maxwell noticing I was gone.
One problem at a ti, Olivia.
First: shower.
Second: disguise.
Third: breakfast with Maxwell and gauge whether he rembered anything.
Fourth: figure out how to get ergency contraception without exposing my entire identity.
Fifth: find Mitchell before my family lunch tomorrow.
Sixth: have a complete nervous breakdown about everything.
I had a plan. Sort of. If you could call this disaster-in-progress a plan.
I forced myself to move, to start executing step one. I entered the shower, letting the hot water wash over , but as I stood there, I couldn’t help but rember the bathroom scene last night. Maxwell pressing against the wall. His mouth on mine. His hands...
Stop it. Focus.
I finished quickly and started the process of becoming Oliver again.
By the ti I looked in the mirror and saw Oliver staring back at , I felt exhausted all over again. I was just applying the last bit of my disguise when soone knocked on my door.
My heart jumped. Maxwell.
But when I opened it, it was just Rita with her kind smile.
"Good morning, Mr. Oliver. Breakfast is ready. Mr. Wellington is waiting downstairs."
He’s waiting.
My stomach sorsaulted.
"Thank you, Rita. I’ll be right down."
She nodded and turned to go, but I called out before I could stop myself.
"Rita, wait."
She turned back, "Yes, Mr. Oliver?"
I opened my mouth to ask her - to request the ergency contraception, to explain sohow without explaining - but the words stuck in my throat.
What would I say? Hey Rita, I need Plan B because I slept with your boss last night while pretending to be a man?
Yeah. That would go over well.
"Never mind," I said, forcing a smile. "I just... thank you. For everything."
She smiled back, oblivious to my internal crisis, and left.
I closed the door and leaned against it, taking deep breaths.
Okay. Breakfast. You can do this. Just act normal. Don’t let him see that you’re panicking.
I followed Rita’s path down the stairs, hyping myself up and trying to look confident.
The dining room ca into view, and through the doorway, I could see Maxwell already seated at the head of the table. He was dressed for the day in casual weekend clothes - dark jeans and a fitted navy sweater that made him look extrely hot - which was completely unfair to right now.
And he was looking right at .
Our eyes t across the distance, and sothing electric passed between us. Recognition. Heat. mory.
I froze in the doorway.
I can’t do this.
His expression was unreadable - not cold, not warm, just watching with those intense green eyes that seed to see everything.
Did he rember? Did he know what we’d done? Was he waiting for to acknowledge it? To explain?
My feet made the decision for .
I turned around and walked away.
"I can’t do this," I muttered under my breath, my heart racing as I headed back toward the stairs. "I absolutely cannot do this."
Behind , I heard the scrape of a chair.
"Oliver."
Maxwell’s voice. Low and commanding.
I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Just kept walking like my life depended on putting distance between us.
"Oliver, stop."
Footsteps behind now, quick and commanding.
Oh God, he’s following .
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