Olivia’s POV
Maxwell glanced up from his computer screen with the distracted air of soone expecting to see his assistant. But the mont his eyes focused on - really saw - his entire body went rigid.
His fingers froze over the keyboard. His lips parted slightly, as if he’d been about to say sothing but the words had simply evaporated. For several long seconds, he just stared at , his green eyes wide with shock.
Then, as if suddenly rembering himself, his gaze darted quickly to Oliver’s empty desk behind before snapping back to my face.
That look - that quick, telling glance at the assistant’s desk - sent a thrill of vindication through . Julian had been right. Maxwell knew exactly who I was.
"Why are you looking at the desk?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual as I moved closer to his desk.
Maxwell blinked, as if my question had broken whatever spell he’d been under. "I... what are you doing here, Olivia?"
The way he said my na - like it was sothing precious and dangerous all at once - made my pulse quicken.
"Why did you look at the desk behind ?" I pressed, taking a step closer to his desk.
Maxwell’s jaw tightened, and I watched as he imdiately composed himself. The shock that had filled his face monts ago was gone, replaced by his usual air of smug control.
"What do you an by that question?" he asked, his voice returning to that familiar cold, dismissive tone. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him. "Are you here for a reason, Olivia, or did you just co to ask about my eye movents?"
The way he deflected sent a thrill through . Julian had been right - Maxwell absolutely knew who I was. But now that he’d regained his composure, he was going to make this difficult.
I moved toward one of the chairs facing his desk and sat down, crossing my legs deliberately. The green dress rode up slightly, and I didn’t miss how his eyes tracked the movent before snapping back to my face.
"I ca to see you specifically," I said, leaning back in the chair and eting his gaze directly.
"What for?" He asked in a controlled voice, but there was sothing darker lurking beneath. Sothing that made the air in the room feel charged.
I noticed how his eyes seed to have a will of their own, despite his attempts to remain professional. They road over the curve of my neck, the way the dress hugged my shoulders, down to where it dipped just enough to be intriguing without being inappropriate. The intensity of his gaze sent heat coursing through my veins, and I had to fight to keep my breathing steady.
"You can’t seem to keep your eyes off ," I observed, tilting my head slightly. "Is that part of your usual consultation process?"
A muscle in his jaw jumped, but he didn’t look away. "You’re avoiding my question."
I took a deep breath, "I want to know why you were so rude to that first day in your Dr. Heart’s office. And more importantly, why you’ve been trying to sabotage what Gabriel and I have."
Maxwell went completely still. His green eyes, which had been heated monts before, turned calculating and sharp.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," he said carefully.
"You don’t right?" I leaned forward despite my heart hamring at the fact that I was challenging my boss. "The way you dismissed in your office, told I wasn’t good enough for Alex. The way you spent our entire first date trying to convince Gabriel that I was dramatic and unstable. The way you’ve been..."
"You think I’ve been sabotaging your relationship with Gabriel?" His voice was dangerously quiet.
"Haven’t you?" I challenged, studying his face for any tell, any crack in his armor. "Or is this about sothing else entirely? Do you have feelings for , Maxwell?"
Maxwell’s entire body went rigid, his knuckles whitening as his hands gripped the arms of his chair. For a mont, sothing raw and unguarded flickered across his features - surprise, desire, and sothing that looked almost like pain.
The silence stretched between us, thick with tension. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears as I watched him struggle with my question, watched him try to formulate a response that wouldn’t give away whatever he was desperately trying to hide.
Just as his lips parted, just as I thought he might actually answer , there was a knock on the door.
Maxwell’s head snapped toward the sound, and I saw sothing like relief flash across his face at the interruption.
"Co in," he called out, his voice rough.
The door opened, and my blood turned to ice. Damn. Why now?
David stepped into the office, looking every inch the successful businessman. His hair was styled perfectly, and there wasn’t a single hint of the chaos from our last encounter visible on his face. He looked confident, composed, and completely in control.
But the mont his eyes found sitting in the chair across from Maxwell’s desk, his composure cracked. His step faltered, and I saw his jaw clench as recognition dawned.
"Mr. Wellington," David began as he recovered from his surprise. "I’m David Banks, we t at Alex’s party Saturday night. I have a 1 PM appointnt regarding my divorce proceedings."
Maxwell glanced at his watch, then back at David. "Mr. Banks, yes. Please, have a seat." He gestured to the chair beside mine, and I felt my stomach drop.
David’s eyes t mine for a second, and in that brief mont, I saw sothing dark and possessive flash across his features. But when he sat down, he was all professional charm again.
"I hope I’m not interrupting anything important," David said in a tone that made my skin crawl.
Maxwell looked between us, probably happy about this interruption. "Not at all. Olivia was just leaving."
"Actually," David jumped in, "I don’t mind if Olivia stays. In fact, given the nature of my situation, a woman’s perspective might be quite valuable."
The trap was being set, and I was caught right in the middle of it.
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