CHAPTER 197: CHAPTER 197

Maxwell’s POV

After about thirty minutes of catching up with Kennedy, I excused myself.

"Give me a moment," I said, standing from the couch. "I need to check on something in my bedroom."

Kennedy nodded, refilling his whiskey. "Take your time. I’ll be here."

But the truth was, I wasn’t comfortable anymore.

Olivia and her best friend had been upstairs for way too long. And when those two were together, God only knew what kind of trouble they could get into.

Olivia alone, I could manage. I’d spent time studying her - learning her tells, predicting her moves, understanding how her mind worked. Her expressions were terrible at hiding her feelings, which made her beautifully transparent to someone who knew what to look for.

But Kira? Kira was a wildcard. I didn’t know her patterns, couldn’t predict what she might convince Olivia to do.

And right now, my most precious possession was sitting upstairs, vulnerable to whatever scheme they might be cooking up.

Those sheets. Nothing can happen to those sheets.

It had taken so much careful planning to get Olivia into my bed. It had taken patience, strategic moves, and calculated risks. And now those sheets were all I had - saturated with her scent. I had plans for them. Plans that involved sleeping in them tonight, surrounded by her scent, letting it drive me crazy until I figured out my next move.

But more than that, I had bigger plans for Olivia herself.

I wanted to breed her. Wanted to put a baby in her - little Maxy or little Livy - so that by the time she finally learned the truth about me, the pregnancy would keep her bound to my side. She couldn’t run if she was carrying my child. Couldn’t disappear.

When my security had reported something suspicious outside my gate earlier today, I’d immediately known what it was. Olivia, trying to get contraception. Trying to undo what we’d done last night.

I couldn’t let that happen.

I knew her cycle - had marked it carefully in my calendar ever since that day in the office when she’d stained herself. I knew exactly when she was fertile. And next time, I’d target her ovulation period precisely. I’ll fuck her three rounds at least. Make absolutely sure the seed took.

She wasn’t leaving this house until I’d successfully bred her. Until she was carrying my child and had no choice but to stay.

But first, I needed to protect those sheets.

Earlier today, when I’d entered my bedroom to change after our search, I’d noticed something odd. Just for a split second, I’d seen legs poking out from under my bed - feminine legs that had disappeared so quickly I might have imagined them if I wasn’t already on high alert.

Olivia had been hiding in my room.

And when I’d gone to shower and returned, one of my perfume bottles was missing.

I’d realized immediately that she was planning to douse the sheets with cologne to cover her scent.

Clever girl. But not clever enough.

I’d found her in her room shortly after, passed out cold, exhausted from the day’s stress. And while she slept, I’d gone through every single one of my perfume bottles and replaced the contents with water.

Better than hiding them or throwing them away, which would raise suspicions I wasn’t ready to deal with yet. This way, she’d think she’d succeeded in her mission when really, she’d accomplished nothing.

But now, something was telling me they were doing something else. Something more. And I wouldn’t have it.

Dinner could wait. Kennedy could wait. But this couldn’t.

I climbed the stairs quickly, my jaw clenched hard.

I stopped at Olivia’s door first, pressing my ear against it.

Silence. Disturbing silence.

They’re in my room. They’re definitely in my room.

I strode to my bedroom door and grabbed the handle, opening it immediately.

The door swung open, and I stopped dead.

A naked woman lay on my bed - on my precious sheets - stretched out on her stomach like she was posing for some kind of pornographic photo shoot.

For one wild second, my heart leapt. Olivia. She came back for more. She couldn’t resist...

But then the woman lifted her head and turned toward me, and I saw her face clearly.

Agnes.

The saucy maid I’d fired on the day I’d drank toilet water and my stomach had revolted against me.

What the fuck is she doing on my bed?

"Come to bed, Daddy," she purred, her voice dripping with seduction. "I know you’re hot and ready for this. Let me..."

My sheets. My precious, irreplaceable sheets.

The rage that exploded through me was white-hot and all-consuming.

I crossed the room in one stride, grabbed her by the arm, and literally flung her off my bed. She hit the floor instantly, her naked body sliding across my fluffy carpet.

I didn’t care where she landed. Didn’t care if she was hurt. All my concern, all my focus, was on the sheets.

No. No, no, no.

I stared at the bed, at the rumpled silk that now smelled like her cheap perfume instead of Olivia, at the evidence of her body having been pressed against the sheets I’d been trying so desperately to preserve.

This bitch had destroyed everything. Everything I’d been protecting since morning. Everything I’d planned to sleep in tonight, to savor one more time before the scent inevitably faded.

The fury building inside me was volcanic. Deadly. I wanted to destroy something. Wanted to hurt someone. Wanted to unleash every ounce of rage churning through my system.

I turned toward Agnes, and she must have seen something terrifying in my face because she whimpered and tried to scoot backward across the floor.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" My voice came out as a roar that rattled the windows. "WHO SENT YOU? WHAT GAVE YOU THE RIGHT?"

"I... I love you," she stammered, her eyes wide with fear. "I just wanted to be with you..."

"YOU BROKE INTO MY BEDROOM!" I advanced on her, my hands clenched into fists so tight my knuckles were white. "MY BEDROOM, WHICH IS OFF-LIMITS TO EVERYONE! AND YOU USED YOUR FILTHY BODY TO RUIN MY SHEETS!"

"Please, I’m sorry, I just..."

"Sorry?" I laughed, but it was a harsh, ugly sound. "You’re SORRY?"

I was maybe three inches from punching her. From unleashing all this fury directly into her face. The only thing stopping me was the fact that she was a woman, and some deeply ingrained part of me refused to cross that line.

Instead, I poured all my frustration into my voice and roared like a wounded animal.

The door burst open.

"Maxwell! What the hell is going on? I could hear you from downstairs!"

Kennedy stood in the doorway, taking in the scene - me standing over a naked, terrified woman, my whole body shaking with wild rage.

His eyes moved from me to Agnes, then to the rumpled bed. Understanding flickered across his face.

"Security!" he shouted into the hallway. Then he crossed to the phone on my nightstand and dialed. "Security to the master bedroom. Now."

While he was doing that, I crouched down to Agnes’s eye level, my voice dropping to something low and dangerous.

"Who helped you get in here?"

She was crying now, mascara running down her face. "It was Tom, one of the security guards. He said - he said he’d put something in your food. An aphrodisiac. To make you... to make you want me. Please, I just wanted..."

The door opened again, and four security guards rushed in.

I spotted him immediately - the one whose eyes were just a little too wide, whose face was just a shade too pale.

Guilty.

I lunged for him before anyone could stop me, and I punched him in the jaw with a loud satisfying crack. He went down hard, blood spraying from his mouth.

"Maxwell!" Kennedy grabbed my arm before I could deliver another punch. "That’s enough!"

I shook him off but didn’t advance again, breathing hard, my knuckles bleeding.

"Take them both out," I ordered the other three guards, my voice like ice. "Now."

They moved to help Agnes up, and one of them grabbed a throw blanket from my chair to wrap around her.

"No," I said sharply. "She came in naked, she leaves naked. She should be grateful I’m not having her arrested for breaking and entering."

"Maxwell..." Kennedy started.

"She violated my home. My bedroom. My... my..." I couldn’t finish, as my eyes were fixed on Agnes, who was sobbing openly now. "Throw her out the front gate exactly as she is. Let her walk home naked. Maybe she’ll think twice before pulling a stunt like this again."

The guards hesitated, looking between me and Kennedy.

"Do it," I said coldly.

They obeyed, hauling Agnes to her feet and dragging her toward the door.

"And him," I pointed at the bleeding guard, "lock him in the basement. I have special plans for anyone who thinks they can drug me in my own home."

Kennedy moved to stand in front of me. "Maxwell, you can’t..."

"Can’t what? Punish someone who conspired to drug and assault me?"

"You’re talking about keeping him prisoner..."

"In my private holding cell, which is perfectly legal on my property." My eyes were cold. "He’s lucky I didn’t kill him on the spot. That would have been stupid. This is just... justice."

Kennedy opened his mouth to argue, but before he could...

Thump.

We both froze.

The sound had come from under the bed.

Shit.

Olivia must be under there.

Kennedy and I looked at each other, then at the bed. Slowly, he walked over and crouched down.

"Come out," he said, his voice firm. "We know you’re there."

Nothing.

"Now," Kennedy added, with more authority.

He reached under the bed and pulled out Kira first, her face bright red with embarrassment.

Then Olivia.

My beautiful, devious Olivia, still dressed as Oliver, her wig slightly askew and her face frozen in an expression of pure horror.

She’d been here the whole time.

Had witnessed everything.

The naked woman. My rage. My confession about the sheets. Every unhinged word I’d shouted.

Our eyes met across the room, and I watched her face cycle through about eight different emotions in three seconds.

Fear. Embarrassment. Confusion. And underneath it all, something that looked almost like... concern?