CHAPTER 41: CHAPTER 41

Olivia’s POV

"Mr. Hopton, what are you doing?" Maxwell’s voice cut through my buried laughter.

I shot up from under my desk so fast I nearly hit my head against the desk, my face burning with embarrassment. "Nothing, sir," I said quickly, clearing my throat and trying to comport myself.

Maxwell regarded me with those piercing green eyes, and for a moment I wondered if he could somehow sense that I was internally celebrating his misfortune. But then he winced again and turned his attention back to his coffee.

He picked up the cup with his good hand, brought it to his lips, took a small sip, and then set it down with the expression of someone who had just been personally betrayed by the universe.

"This coffee is cold," he said distastefully. "Mr. Hopton, I need you to go back to Taylor’s and get me a fresh cup. This one is unacceptable."

*Of course it’s cold, you dramatic disaster. I got it three hours ago!*

"Of course, sir," I said, standing up immediately. "I’ll get you a fresh cup right away."

As I headed toward the door, I felt a surge of genuine happiness bubbling up in my chest. Seeing Maxwell Wellington - the man who had made my life hell, who had fired me for being late, who had treated me like dirt beneath his shoes - reduced to this limping, bandaged, dramatic mess was better than Christmas morning.

*Thank you, Mr. Stranger,* I whispered to myself as I walked down the hallway. I was absolutely certain that my mysterious man was responsible for Maxwell’s current condition. The timing was too perfect to be a coincidence.

For the first time since I’d started working at Wellington & Sons, I had a genuine spring in my step. I practically bounced toward the elevator, humming under my breath. Several colleagues looked at me strangely - I must have looked like a completely different person from the harried, stressed-out assistant they’d seen earlier.

When I arrived at Taylor’s cafe, I found myself smiling at the barista, who seemed surprised by my improved mood.

"Another Maxwell Wellington?" he asked, already reaching for a cup.

"Make it extra hot this time," I said cheerfully. "He’s having a difficult morning."

I was literally glowing with satisfaction as I made my way back to the office. The mysterious stranger had actually done it. He’d somehow dealt with Maxwell Wellington in exactly the way I’d hoped - not permanently, not fatally, but enough to humble him, enough to make him suffer a little.

*This is perfect. This is absolutely perfect.*

I was so caught up in my good mood that I didn’t notice Alex approaching from the other direction until we nearly collided right in front of Maxwell’s office door.

"Whoa!" Alex caught my arm as I stumbled, his strong hands preventing me from spilling the hot coffee all over both of us.

The moment his hands touched my arm, my heart did that stupid thing again - it was racing and fluttering at the same time, the contact sending electricity up my arm.

*What the fuck is wrong with you?* I thought desperately. *You’re supposed to be over this guy. You have Gabriel now. Gabriel, who actually sees you as Olivia and obviously wants to date you.*

But my traitorous heart didn’t seem to care about that. It just kept hammering away in my chest like it was trying to escape.

"You okay there, Oliver?" Alex asked, his blue eyes searching my face. His hands were still on my arms, steadying me, and I was acutely aware of the warmth of his touch even through my suit jacket.

"I’m fine," I managed, my voice coming out a little higher. I cleared my throat quickly. "Just... focused on not spilling Mr. Wellington’s coffee."

Alex smiled. This was actually the first time I was seeing him since my date with Gabriel on Saturday. And I must say, I’ve never seen twin boys with exactly the same face and expression. How could anyone even differentiate between both of them? There was absolutely no difference!

"Good reflexes." Alex said, still smiling, "Maxwell would probably make you walk to Brooklyn for a replacement if you spilled it."

I found myself smiling back. "He might make me walk to Connecticut at this point."

Alex laughed, then cleared his throat. "Speaking of which, how are you doing? I haven’t heard from you since... well, since Friday’s incident."

*Friday’s incident.* Right. The day Maxwell fired me and Alex had to witness my complete humiliation. The day that felt like a lifetime ago now.

I searched my brain for a plausible explanation that wouldn’t make Oliver sound like he was avoiding Alex - which would be weird.

"I’m sorry about that," I said, looking down at the coffee cup to avoid meeting his eyes. "The work has been really stressful, and I haven’t had time to come see you and properly to thank you for what you did. Your suggestion about approaching Damien was really helpful, and I..." I looked up briefly, catching his gaze. "I owe you a lot."

His expression softened. "You don’t owe me anything, Oliver. I just hate seeing Max act like a tyrant when someone doesn’t deserve it."

*If only you knew just how much your friend deserves what’s happening to him right now,* I thought with satisfaction.

"Well, thank you anyway," I said. "Really. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t intervened."

"Don’t worry about it," Alex said, reaching past me to open Maxwell’s office door. "After you."

The simple gesture made my heart skip again, and I had to physically shake myself as I walked through the doorway. *Focus, Olivia. You’re here to deliver coffee and enjoy Maxwell’s suffering, not to moon over his best friends.*

I stepped into the office, and Alex followed behind me. Maxwell was exactly where I’d left him, sitting behind his desk like a wounded king holding court, his sling still positioned against his chest.

I walked over and placed the fresh coffee carefully on his desk. "Your coffee, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Hopton," Maxwell said meekly, almost sounding humble.

It took a lot of strength to hold in my laughter as I moved away from the desk.

That’s when Alex got his first good look at Maxwell’s condition.

"Jesus Christ, Max!" Alex exclaimed, his eyes widening as he took in the sling, the cane, the bandage. "What the hell happened to you?"

Maxwell looked up at Alex, shaking his head slightly. Then he reached for his coffee with his good hand, took a careful sip, and set it down with another slight wince.

"I was attacked last night," he said simply, as if those five words explained everything and nothing at all.

I tried to keep my expression neutral, but inside I was practically vibrating with anticipation. *This is it. This is where I find out exactly what my mysterious stranger did to the great Maxwell Wellington.*

Alex moved closer to the desk, his face filled with concern and anger. "Attacked? By who? Where? Are you okay? Have you called the police?"

Maxwell held up his good hand dismissively. "I’m fine, Alex. Well, relatively speaking." Another wince. "It happened outside my building last night. I was coming home late from the office - you know how it is."

*Of course you were working late. Probably plotting new ways to torture your employees.*

"I was walking from the parking garage to the lobby entrance when someone jumped me," Maxwell continued, "A man in a hoodie. I couldn’t even see his face - it was too dark, and everything happened so fast."

Alex leaned forward, his expression intense. "What did he want? Your wallet? Your watch?"

Maxwell shook his head slowly. "That’s the strange part. He didn’t take anything. Didn’t even try to rob me. It was like..." He paused, as if the memory was too difficult to process. "It was like he was sending a message."

*Oh, he was definitely sending a message,* I thought, fighting to keep the satisfaction off my face. *The message was: stop being a sadistic asshole to innocent people.*

"A message?" Alex repeated, looking confused. "What kind of message?"

"I don’t know," Maxwell admitted, "He didn’t say much. Just... warned me to be more careful about how I treat people. Said that my actions have consequences."

I had to bite down hard on my lower lip to keep from grinning. My mysterious stranger had actually confronted Maxwell directly. He’d made it clear that this beating was connected to Maxwell’s behavior.

*This is better than I could have possibly imagined.*

Alex ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. "Max, you need to report this to the police. This sounds like stalking, or harassment, or..."

"Of course I will," Maxwell said firmly. "And I won’t stop until I have the bastard arrested and locked up."

*Oh Shit! I have to warn my stranger.*