CHAPTER 203: CHAPTER 203

Olivia’s POV

I stood rooted to the spot, my entire body frozen as I stared at this... this imposter.

He was wearing Oliver’s kinda clothes - the same baggy jeans and oversized hoodie I usually wear to hide my feminine figure. The same short wig I wore every day. The same carefully applied facial hair that Nikita had taught me to apply. Everything down to the smallest detail was perfect.

But who was underneath? Male? Female? I couldn’t tell.

What the hell is happening?

Beside me, I heard Kira’s sharp intake of breath. She was just as shocked, her eyes wide and disbelieving as she stared at the newcomer.

My mother’s voice filtered through the fog in my brain, catching only the tail end of her introduction. "...Kennedy’s friend Maxwell Wellington. He came with his personal assistant, Oliver Hopton, who also happens to be your distant cousin! Isn’t that beautiful?"

"Wait, what?" The words burst out of me before I could stop them.

Mom beamed. "I know! I was shocked too when Kennedy told me! Apparently you have a cousin you never knew about, and he’s been working for Maxwell this whole time. What are the odds?"

"No... I... Jesus..." I couldn’t form a coherent sentence. My brain had completely short-circuited.

I turned to Maxwell, forgetting myself, forgetting the audience, forgetting everything except the desperate need for answers. "Can we talk? Right now?"

"Oh, baby!" Mom exclaimed, her hand flying to her chest. "You remember Maxwell now? I’m so..."

"I’ll go talk to her," Maxwell interrupted quickly, already moving toward me.

But I was barely listening. "Remember him? Remember him how?"

Maxwell placed his hand on my back, gently guiding me toward the front door. "Let’s step outside for a moment."

I let him lead me out, my mind spinning with too many questions, too many revelations, too many things that didn’t make sense.

The moment we were on the front porch, away from everyone’s eyes, I whirled on him.

"Why should I remember you?" I asked, forgetting the initial reason I’d wanted to talk to him in the first place. "Have we met sometime before? How do you know my brother? How do you know my family? And have you always known? Have you known this entire time who I was and still choose to be cruel to me?"

Maxwell stood there, his hands in his pockets, his expression neutral as I went into full panic mode.

"Please," I said, and I hated how my voice cracked. "Just answer me. All of it. Everything."

He was quiet for a moment, studying my face intently. Then he took a breath.

"We met briefly as kids," he said carefully. "Very briefly. It would be impossible for you to remember."

"Kids?"

"Your parents know me because I’ve been friends with Kennedy since middle school. We’ve stayed close over the years."

I shook my head, trying to process this information. "So you’re telling me... you’ve known who I was this entire time? Since I walked into your office as Olivia asking for love advice?"

******

Maxwell’s POV

Shit.

I thought I was ready for this. Thought I’d prepared myself mentally for every possible reaction she might have when the truth came out.

But I wasn’t ready.

Not for the way she was looking at me right now - like I’d betrayed her in the worst possible way. Like I was a stranger. A monster. Someone she’d never trusted and never would.

That look in her eyes was breaking something inside me.

I can’t do this. I can’t handle her hating me.

Call me a big baby. Call me weak. But I couldn’t afford for Olivia to hate me. Not after searching for her for so long. Not after finally having her close.

It had broken me before, when I’d lost her all those years ago. And right now, even though I didn’t want to admit it - even though admitting it made me feel pathetic - it was breaking me again.

Damn it. I should have been nicer.

But I’d been driven by anger at first. By the fury that she couldn’t remember me when she’d walked into my love doctor’s office. By the betrayal of watching her pine after my best friend who didn’t even see her.

I’d let that rage consume me. Had used it to justify every cold word, every calculated move, every moment I’d made her uncomfortable.

And now I was paying for it.

"Maxwell!" Her voice cut through my thoughts. "Answer me right now. Have you always known?"

She was practically yelling, and I could see shadows moving behind the living room window. Everyone was watching. Her parents, Kennedy, Kira, Gabriel, the fake Oliver I’d hired.

This is a disaster.

I reached for her arm, intending to guide her somewhere more private, somewhere we could have this conversation without an audience.

She snatched her arm away like I’d burned her.

"Don’t touch me," she hissed, and the disgust in her voice weakened me.

I can’t do this. I can’t see her look at me like that.

Seeing her like this - hurt and angry and looking at me like I was her worst nightmare - brought back memories I’d spent years trying to bury. Memories of the darkness that had consumed me when I’d thought she was gone forever.

Maybe I shouldn’t have looked for her. Maybe I should have let her be. Maybe I should have just moved on.

What had I been thinking? That finding her would somehow make everything better? That she’d remember me and fall into my arms and we’d live happily ever after?

I was a fool.

I turned away from her and started walking toward my car. I needed to leave. Needed to get out of here before I completely lost control. Before I said something I couldn’t take back or did something I’d regret.

"Maxwell, wait!" She followed me. "Stop! You don’t get to just walk away! I demand an explanation!"

But I kept walking, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Don’t look back. Don’t engage. Just get to the car.

I reached my car and yanked open the driver’s side door, sliding into the seat and closing it behind me.

My forehead dropped to the steering wheel as I tried to steady my breathing.

In. Out. In. Out. Get control of yourself.

The passenger door opened, and Olivia threw herself into the seat, slamming the door behind her.

"I’m not done talking to you," she said, her voice filled with emotion.

I didn’t lift my head. Didn’t look at her. Just focused on breathing while she kept talking, her words washing over me in waves I couldn’t quite process.

Finally, I reached across her and opened her door from the inside.

"Leave," I said through gritted teeth.

She slammed the door shut. "No."

"Olivia..."

"I’m not going anywhere."

"Go back to your family," I said, still not looking at her. Still resting my forehead against the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.

"You’re apparently part of my family too, aren’t you!" she shot back. "So if I go in there, you’re coming with me. Right now, I need answers."

I sighed heavily and finally lifted my head, forcing myself to look at her.

Mistake. Looking at her is always a mistake.

"I found out you were Kennedy’s sister after you visited my office," I lied. But It was safer than the truth. Safer than admitting I’d been searching for her for years. That I’d found her by chance when visiting Alex at his old firm. That I’d followed her to that concert like a stalker. That when she’d walked into my office the next day, I’d felt a joy so profound it had nearly brought me to my knees.

Until she’d opened her mouth and declared her love for another man.

"After I visited your office," she repeated slowly.

"Yes."

"So you’ve known for months. While we’ve been..." She stopped, and I watched color flood her cheeks. "While everything else has been happening."

She’s thinking about the kiss. About all the times I’ve kissed her as Olivia - probably about the sex too.

"Yes."

She went silent. Completely silent.

I’d never heard Olivia this quiet before - Oliver, yes. But not Olivia. Even in all our interactions, she usually always had something to say. Always had fire in her, whether it was anger or passion or stubborn determination.

But now? Nothing.

The silence stretched out, heavy and cold, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

I lifted my head fully and turned to look at her.

Another mistake.

Her eyes were filled with so much hatred that it physically hurt. Like someone was reaching into my chest and twisting my heart in their fist. Every breath became painful. Every heartbeat felt wrong.

She was looking at me like I was the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

"You’re evil," she said quietly, but her words cut deeper than any scream could have. "You’re a demon. A manipulator. And I hate you."

Each word was a knife slicing through my insides.

"Olivia..."

"I hate you, Maxwell Wellington. I hate everything about you. I hate that you lied to me. I hate that you’ve known me this whole time, yet chose to play games. I hate that you made me feel..." Her voice broke. "I just hate you."

She grabbed the door handle and shoved the door open.

"And I never want to see you again."

She was out of the car before I could respond, before I could explain, before I could tell her any of the thousand things swirling through my mind.

The door slammed shut with a vibration that echoed through my entire body.