Olivia’s POV
Oh God, he knows. He knows I enjoyed last night. He knows I want to stay. He knows...
But no. That was impossible. He was just being his usual infuriatingly perceptive self.
"I want Mitchell found," I said firmly, even though my face was burning. "I’m asking for permission just in case. I don’t want to assu..."
"You can go." He cut off, settling back into his seat. "My driver will take you."
Relief flooded through . "Thank you, but I’d prefer to go alone. It’s just a family lunch, and I don’t want to inconvenience..."
"Jones will drive you."
"Sir, really, I can take a cab or the subway..."
"Jones will drive you." His tone left no room for argunt. "You’re still technically under my supervision until Mitchell is found. Which ans you don’t go anywhere without my driver. Non-negotiable."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to insist on my independence and my right to take public transportation like a normal person.
But I couldn’t. Because arguing too much would seem suspicious, and I was already on thin ice.
"Fine," I said, pulling out my phone again. "Jones can drive ."
I quickly sent another text to Kira: Also need you to leave a dress and shoes with Nikita at her shop. Sothing I’ll wear for the lunch tomorrow. Will send Nikita’s address.
Kira: A DRESS? Why can’t you co ho and get dressed? Olivia, what the actual HELL is happening?!
: Long story. Will explain everything later. Promise.
I typed out Nikita’s shop address and hit send, then slumped back against the door.
Okay. Contraception will be hidden in the shrubs. Dress and shoes will be at Nikita’s shop. Jones will drive , which ans I’ll have to change sowhere between leaving the mansion and arriving at my parents house. I also have to figure out a way to ditch Jones without leaving any traces. I can make this work. I can.
The car pulled up to the area where we’d stopped searching yesterday - a busy street with shops and restaurants and plenty of foot traffic.
I reached for the door handle, expecting Maxwell to follow out.
But he didn’t move.
I paused, looking back at him. "Aren’t you coming?"
"I’ll supervise from here." He gestured vaguely at the car. "You know what to do. Post the flyers, ask questions, cover as much ground as possible."
"From... the car."
"From the car."
I stared at him. "So you’re just going to sit in an air-conditioned vehicle while I walk around in the heat?"
"I’m providing strategic oversight. Go on. I’ll be watching."
Of course you will.
I got out of the car, grabbing my stack of flyers, and imdiately felt the heat of the morning sun beating down on .
Maxwell rolled down his window, settling into his seat like he was about to watch a very entertaining show.
"Don’t forget to stay hydrated," he called out. "Jones has water bottles in the trunk if you need one."
I glared at him, but he just smiled back innocently.
Asshole.
I started walking down the street, taping flyers to light posts and storefronts, asking anyone who would listen if they’d seen a white Persian cat.
The whole ti, I could feel Maxwell’s eyes on .
When I glanced back, the car was following slowly, keeping pace with my progress. Maxwell was visible through the open window, watching .
"There’s a coffee shop on your left," he called out. "Make sure you ask them."
I gritted my teeth and approached the coffee shop.
"That woman with the dog," Maxwell’s voice drifted from the car. "Ask her."
I asked her.
"The boutique across the street looks promising."
I crossed the street to the boutique, sweat dripping down my back.
This continued for blocks. Maxwell would spot soone or sowhere I should check, and I’d dutifully walk over in the blazing sun while he remained comfortably cool in his air-conditioned car.
After about an hour, I was ready to murder him.
I marched back to the car, my face flushed from exertion and frustration. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Imnsely." Maxwell looked completely relaxed, one arm resting on the window fra. "You’re very thorough. I’m impressed."
"I’m dying of heat exhaustion."
"Nonsense. You’re young and healthy." He held out a water bottle. "Drink."
I grabbed the water and downed half of it in one go, glaring at him the entire ti.
"Better?"
"I can’t believe this." I muttered. But just then, my phone buzzed.
Kira: Done. Package is hidden in the shrubs by the left side of the gate. Dress and shoes are with Nikita. She knows you’re coming.
Relief flooded through . At least that was handled.
Kira: Now PLEASE tell what’s going on. I’m dying here.
: Can’t text it. Will call you tonight. Promise.
Kira: You better. I’m literally DYING of curiosity.
I slipped my phone back in my pocket and turned to find Maxwell watching with interest.
"Everything alright?"
"Fine. Just my girlfriend checking in."
Sothing flickered across his face - so quick I almost missed it.
"How sweet. She must miss you."
She’s probably planning on how to rescue as we speak, but sure, let’s go with that.
"Are we done here?" I asked, desperate to change the subject. "Or should I cover more ground while you watch from your car?"
Maxwell checked his watch. "We’ll continue for another hour, then head back. I have so business calls to make this afternoon."
An hour. I can survive another hour.
But as I walked back out into the sun, Maxwell’s voice following with his usual directions, I couldn’t shake the feeling that sothing had shifted between us.
The way he watched now was different.
Sothing was different, and no matter how much I try, I cannot seem to figure it out.
And that terrified more than anything else.
By the ti we started heading back to the mansion, I braced up for the next mission.
We drove up the long driveway toward the front gate, my heart pounding. The shrubs. Kira had sent a picture of the exact location she’d hidden the package. In the shrubs by the left side of the gate.
I needed to get it. Now. Before we went inside. Before I lost this opportunity.
"Stop the car," I said suddenly.
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