CHAPTER 210: CHAPTER 210

Olivia’s POV - The Next Day

I woke up to my phone buzzing on the nightstand.

Still half-asleep, I reached for it and squinted at the screen. A text from Gabriel.

Gabriel: Good morning, beautiful. Hope you slept well. Can’t wait to see you later. Have an amazing day. 😊

I stared at the message, my sleep-fogged brain trying to process the sweetness of it.

Is this even fake? Or is he really this smooth naturally?

Before I could overthink my response, my phone started ringing. Gabriel’s name flashed across the screen.

I answered, my voice still rough with sleep. "Hello?"

"Morning." His voice was deeper than usual, that gravelly quality that only came from just waking up. "Sorry if I woke you. Just wanted to check on my girlfriend."

My girlfriend. The words sent an unexpected flutter through my chest.

"I’m awake now," I said, pushing myself up to sit against the headboard.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, and the concern in his voice made this feel less fake and more... real.

"Yeah, I did. You?"

"Better than I have in months, actually." He paused. "Listen, whatever happens today, just know I’m here for you. if you need anything, anything at all, just text or call."

My throat tightened with unexpected emotion. "Thank you, Gabriel. That means a lot."

"Of course. Have a good day, Olivia. I’ll check on you later."

"You too."

I hung up and stared at my phone, Gabriel’s sweet message still glowing on the screen.

This is supposed to be fake. Why does it feel so real?

"Good morning, sunshine!"

Kira came into my room you, already dressed and looking determined.

"What are you doing here?" I asked groggily. "Don’t you have work?"

"Took the day off." She plopped down on the edge of my bed. "We have a mission today, remember? Can’t let you infiltrate Maxwell’s mansion alone. Plus, I need to coordinate the fake Oliver kidnapping."

"Kira, you didn’t have to risk your job for this..."

"We need that salary," Kira interrupted, her expression turning serious. "Your salary. From Maxwell. Which that imposter is currently stealing. I’ll do whatever it takes to get it back for you."

I smiled. "Thank you."

"Now get up. We have a lot to do before your 2 PM appointment, including making sure you don’t crumble the moment you see Maxwell’s stupidly handsome face."

After breakfast, we spent the entire morning planning.

Kira made flash cards with potential things Maxwell might say and coached me on responses that would keep me calm and professional. We practiced my breathing techniques. We even did a mock consultation where Kira played Maxwell - complete with his infuriating smirk and condescending tone.

"Remember," she said for the hundredth time, "you’re there as Olivia asking for relationship advice. Not as Oliver who knows all his secrets. Not as the woman he kissed. Just a client seeking professional guidance."

"Got it."

"And if he tries to rattle you?"

"Stay calm. Keep it professional. Don’t let him see he’s getting to me."

"Perfect." Kira checked her phone. "Okay, I just sent the text to fake Oliver. Told him I want to meet up to talk about our fight. The sleeping pills are ready in my bag for when I grab him."

I raised an eyebrow. "Where did you even get sleeping pills?"

"Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to." She grinned. "Now go get ready. You have a consultation to attend."

An hour later, I was standing outside Maxwell’s mansion gates, my heart pounding against my ribs.

I’d dressed in a fitted burgundy dress that was professional but still flattering, paired with heels that made me feel confident. My hair was styled in loose waves, my makeup natural but polished.

You can do this.

The security guard asked for my information, and when I told him who I was, he let me in.

As I walked up to the massive front doors, I tried to act like I’d never been here before - like I didn’t know exactly which hallway led to Maxwell’s home office, like I hadn’t spent days living under this roof as his assistant.

A staff member I recognized was passing through the foyer.

"Excuse me," I said, injecting just the right amount of uncertainty into my voice. "I have an appointment with Mr. Wellington? Could you point me toward his office?"

"Of course, miss. Right this way."

She led me down the familiar hallway, up the staircase, towards the door of Maxwell’s home office.

"Here you are. Just knock before entering."

"Thank you."

She walked away, and I stood alone in front of the door, staring at it like it might bite me.

Last chance to run.

But I didn’t run. I raised my hand and knocked.

"Come in."

Maxwell’s voice sent a shiver down my spine.

I opened the door and stepped inside.

The office was exactly as I remembered from the time I’d come to kidnap Mitchell. And there, standing with his back to me, facing the floor to ceiling windows, was Maxwell.

He was in a suit, perfectly tailored, devastatingly handsome, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out at something I couldn’t see.

I cleared my throat. "Good afternoon, Dr. Heart."

He turned slowly, and our eyes met across the room.

For a split second, something flickered across his face.

Then it was gone, replaced by cool professionalism as he moved to sit behind his massive desk.

"Miss Hopton. Please, have a seat." His voice was neutral, like we were strangers. "I hope it wasn’t too difficult finding the house?"

I settled into the chair across from him, crossing my legs and folding my hands in my lap. "Not at all. My boyfriend gave me excellent directions."

I watched for a reaction - any reaction - but his face remained impassive. His expression was set and hard, revealing nothing.

He’s good. Too good.

Maxwell opened a leather-bound notebook and clicked his pen. "You mentioned in your appointment request that you need advice regarding your relationship with Mr. Gabriel Gregory, I assume?"

"Yes."

"And how long have you two been together?"

"We just started dating. Very recently, actually."

Maxwell’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "I see. And what seems to be the problem?"

I took a breath, channeling every ounce of sincerity I could muster. "Gabriel is wonderful. He’s kind, attentive, he cares about my feelings. He seems like the type of man who would be faithful, loyal. Someone I could build a future with."

"But?" Maxwell’s pen was poised over the paper, but he hadn’t written anything yet.

"But I think he might still have feelings for his ex-girlfriend." I leaned forward slightly. "And I need advice on how to make him love only me. See only me. Think only of me even when we’re..." I paused, letting the implication hang in the air. "Even when we’re making love."

Maxwell’s pen stilled completely. His eyes locked onto mine, and I watched his jaw work as he fought for control.

The silence stretched out, heavy and charged.

Finally, he spoke, his voice calm. "For some men, it’s difficult to let go of a true love they once had. If your boyfriend wants to move on and focus solely on you, that decision has to come from within him. There’s nothing you can do to force it."

"But there must be something

I can do on my end," I pressed. "Some way to make him see that I’m the one he should be with. That I’m worth fighting for."

There was tense silence, before a sharp knock interrupted whatever he might have said.

"Come in," Maxwell called, not taking his eyes off me.

The door opened, and my breath caught.

The imposter - fake Oliver - stepped inside, and seeing him up close in the light was surreal. He’d gotten every detail right. The wig, the facial hair, the baggy clothes, even the slight hunch in his shoulders that I’d adopted to appear more masculine.

"Sir," fake Oliver said, his voice a perfect imitation of the one I’d been using, "my girlfriend just called. I need to step out to meet her. Is that alright?"

Kira. The plan is working.

"Fine," Maxwell said without even looking at him. "Go."

Fake Oliver left, closing the door behind him, and we were alone again.

Maxwell sighed, rubbing his temples like I was giving him a headache. "What exactly do you want from me, Miss Hopton?"

"I want Gabriel to love me," I said simply. "I want him to forget about his ex-girlfriend and see that what we have could be something real. Something worth pursuing."

Maxwell’s eyes darkened. When he spoke, his voice was sharp with barely concealed sarcasm. "You want me to tell you how to make a man fall in love with you? How to erase someone from his heart so you can take their place?"

"Yes."

"That’s not how love works. You can’t manufacture feelings. You can’t force someone to stop loving one person and start loving another just because it’s more convenient. Love is..." He stopped, his hands gripping the desk. "Love is inconvenient and messy and it makes you do stupid things. It makes you chase people who’ve forgotten you. It makes you cruel to the person you care about most because you’re terrified of getting hurt again."

He’s not talking about Gabriel anymore. He’s talking about himself.

"Then what should I do?" I asked softly. "If I can’t make him love me, should I just give up?"

"If Gabriel is half as smart as I think he is, he’ll realize what he has before it’s too late. He’ll see that you’re right there in front of him, offering him something real, and he’ll stop being an idiot and fight for you."

"And if he doesn’t?"

"Then he doesn’t deserve you." The words came out rough, almost angry. "And you should walk away before you waste any more time on someone who’s too blind or too in love with someone else to see what’s right in front of him."

We stared at each other across the desk, the air between us filled with everything we weren’t saying.

"Is there anything else?" Maxwell asked finally, his cold mask sliding back into place, as he stood up. "I need to get back to my office. To Wellington and sons."

"Can I look around?" I asked with a smile. "The house, I mean. It’s beautiful, and I’ve heard so much about it from Kennedy."

Maxwell’s expression shuttered completely. "Suit yourself."

Then he walked past me, so close I could smell his cologne, and left the office without another word.

The door closed behind him, and I sat alone in his office, my heart racing.

He’s trying so hard to stay in control. But he’s barely holding on.

I smiled despite myself.

Good. Let him struggle. Let him feel even a fraction of the confusion and longing I’d been drowning in.

But first, I had a job to do.

I stood and moved to the door, peeking out to make sure the coast was clear. Then I hurried down the hallway toward the guest room I’d stayed in as Oliver.

Time to change identities.

And time to figure out what the hell was going on with that imposter.