Olivia’s pov
This was ridiculous. I thought to myself as my phone finally went silent and the elevator was peaceful once again. Of all tis to blow up my phone, my crazy ex chose this mont? My Oliver mont?
The elevator dinged, and Maxwell stepped out, looking up ahead like soone wasn’t by his side. I followed behind with his bag when my phone rang out loud again.
"Oh, for fuck’s sake," I whispered, then realized I had no choice. I had to answer before Maxwell started asking questions.
I cleared my throat, and swiped to answer.
"Hello, Mr. David or whoever you are," I started in my most masculine voice. "This is a wrong number. Please stop calling this line."
Without waiting for a response, I imdiately ended the call, silenced it and shoved the phone back into my pocket, hoping that would be the end of it.
Maxwell turned toward , his eyebrow raised. "Who was that?"
"Just a scamr," I replied quickly, adjusting my grip on his bag. "You know how they are - persistent and annoying."
His expression remained controlled. "Well, I hope this scamr will let you finish your work for the day," he said in an authoritative tone. "Because you still have quite a lot waiting for you upstairs."
Of course I knew that. He didn’t have to remind .
Maxwell turned and walked toward his car without another word. I followed dutifully, my phone vibrating again in my pocket like an angry wasp. I gritted my teeth and ignored it.
As Maxwell slid into the back seat from one side, I opened the opposite door and carefully placed his bag on the seat beside him. But sothing felt different about his deanor. If Maxwell had been cold before, now he seed even colder. He faced forward, his jaw set in a hard line, and didn’t even acknowledge my presence as I closed the door.
"Take ho, Bruno," he ordered the driver curtly, still not looking in my direction.
I stepped back from the car, watching as it pulled away and drove out of the garage.
A strange chill ran down my spine. Had I done sothing wrong? Or was this just Maxwell being his usual charming self?
Focus, Olivia, I told myself as I headed back into the building. You have work to do.
Back at my desk, I stared at the mountain of work Maxwell had assigned before our coffee run. It was enough work for three people, and he expected to finish it all before leaving.
My phone vibrated again. David, the persistent bastard. I declined the call and tried to focus on my computer.
Breathe. Just breathe and get through this. I willed myself to concentrate fully before diving into work.
By 6 PM, I wasn’t even halfway done. The office had gradually emptied and there was still much work to do. My stomach growled loudly, and I was damn hungry, but I couldn’t afford to take a break. At this rate, I was going to be sleeping in the office.
My phone vibrated again - David, of course. I let it go to voicemail.
7 PM ca and went. The building was now completely empty except for the security guards I could hear making their rounds in the hallways. The silence was both eerie and peaceful. At least no one could disturb now.
When my phone rang again at 7:30, I was ready to throw it across the room. But this ti, the caller ID showed Kira’s na, and I felt a wave of relief wash over .
"Hey," I answered, not bothering to disguise my voice since I was alone.
"Liv! Are you ever coming ho tonight? I made dinner, and it’s getting cold."
I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache building behind my eyes. "I’m working late again. Maxwell dumped a massive pile of work on before leaving early, and I can’t go ho until it’s done."
"Are you serious? He left early again and made you stay?" Kira’s voice rose. "That’s completely fucked up! Want to co over and help? I could bring you so food at least."
"No, don’t worry about it," I said, touched by her offer but knowing there was nothing she could do to help. "I just need to power through this. I’ll probably be here for another few hours."
"Ugh, I hate that man so much," Kira growled. "Promise you’ll eat sothing? There’s a vending machine sowhere in that building, right?"
"I promise," I lied, having no intention of leaving my desk until this work was finished.
We talked for a few more minutes about her day, her voice giving a blissful distraction from the huge tasks in front of . When we finally hung up, the silence felt even more oppressive than before.
I looked around the empty office, then down at my uncomfortable disguise. The binding around my chest was digging into my ribs, the prosthetic itching my face, and the wig making very uncomfortable.
Fuck it, I thought. There’s literally no one here.
I quickly closed the office door, then began removing my Oliver disguise. The wig ca off first, and I ran my fingers through my flattened hair with relief. Next ca the prosthetics, then finally, I unwrapped the chest binding, gasping as my ribs expanded properly for the first ti all day.
"Oh my God," I breathed, stretching my arms above my head and feeling like a human being again.
Now I could work properly. I settled back at my desk, cracking my knuckles and diving into the remaining tasks with renewed energy.
By 9 PM, I’d managed to get halfway through the workload. Progress, but not nearly enough.
My eyes were burning from staring at the computer screen, and exhaustion was finally taking over every muscle in my body.
I rested my head on my arms for just a mont, intending to take a quick five-minute break to recharge. The desk was surprisingly comfortable, and the building was so quiet and peaceful...
Before I knew it, I was drifting off, my breathing becoming slow and even as sleep claid completely.
I was so deeply asleep that I didn’t hear the soft footsteps in the hallway outside. I didn’t notice the office door opening softly. I didn’t feel the presence that moved quietly across the room, stopping just beside my desk.
Strong arms slipped beneath , lifting as gently as if I were made of glass. In my exhausted state, I barely stirred, only vaguely aware of being moved through what felt like a dream.
I was lowered onto sothing soft - the leather couch in the corner of the office that I’d noticed but never used. A thick, warm blanket was draped over , tucked carefully around my shoulders with tender hands.
For just a mont, those hands hesitated, and I felt the lightest touch brush a strand of hair away from my face. But even that barely registered in my sleep-addled mind.
The presence lingered for a few more seconds, before kissing my forehead and retreating as quietly as it had co, leaving to sleep peacefully on the couch, warm and safe and completely unaware of my mysterious guardian angel.
The last thing I might have heard, if I’d been conscious enough to process it, was the sound of soone settling into the chair at my desk, and the gentle clicking of fingers on a keyboard as soone worked quietly through the night.
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