CHAPTER 55: CHAPTER 55

Olivia’s POV

*Ohh... Did he really mean that? He wasn’t in love with that woman?*

The certainty in his voice, the way his eyes never left mine as he spoke - it was almost enough to convince me. Almost. But my brain was screaming that people didn’t defend ex-girlfriends accused of murder unless there were still feelings involved.

Still, something about his tone, the way his hand felt on my shoulder, the vulnerability in his expression - it all made me want to believe him.

It took every ounce of strength I possessed to stop myself from smiling. The relief that flooded through me was completely inappropriate and absolutely terrifying, because it confirmed what I’d been trying to deny all morning.

*I care. I actually care whether Maxwell Wellington is in love with his ex-girlfriend or not. I care way more than I should, and that’s a problem I don’t know how to solve.*

Maxwell must have seen something change in my expression because his grip on my shoulder gentled, though he didn’t release me. For a moment, we just stood there, close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes, close enough that I could smell his cologne and feel the warmth radiating from his body.

*This is dangerous,* I thought desperately. *Standing this close to him, feeling this connection, letting myself care about his feelings - this is so dangerous I might not survive it.*

Then Maxwell released my shoulder and stepped back, breaking the spell. His expression had shifted back to business mode.

"Maybe you’re right," he said quietly, running his good hand through his hair. "Maybe I do need to hand this case to someone else. Not because of what you think," he added quickly, "but because Tracy is clearly trying to use this situation to get me back, and I don’t need that kind of complication. I have Sabrina."

At the mention of Sabrina, the little smile that had been trying to form on my face vanished completely.

*Right. Sabrina. The gorgeous woman who’s waiting for Maxwell to propose, who’s planning their future together, who has every right to expect his loyalty and devotion.*

"You’re absolutely right," I said, my voice coming out clipped. "You should give up the case for Sabrina’s sake. She deserves better than having to worry about your ex-girlfriend trying to seduce you."

Maxwell nodded, "Exactly. Sabrina doesn’t deserve to be put in that position."

*No, she doesn’t. She deserves a man who loves her completely, without being tempted by beautiful ex-girlfriends.*

"Should we go tell her?" I asked, gesturing toward the door.

Maxwell straightened his tie with his good hand and nodded. "Let’s get this over with."

We left the small office together, and I immediately noticed that Tracy had made herself comfortable in one of the chairs facing Maxwell’s desk. She looked completely at ease, as if she belonged there, as if this was her office and we were the intruders.

She looked up as we approached, her eyes moving between Maxwell and me with curiosity. "Well? What was that little conference about?"

Maxwell moved behind his desk, putting distance between himself and her.

"Tracy," he started, "I’ve made a decision about your case."

Her face lit up with hope and something that looked like triumph. "Oh, Maxwell, I knew you’d..."

"I’m referring you to another attorney in this company." Maxwell interrupted, "Billy Jones is one of the best criminal defense lawyers in the city. He’ll take excellent care of your case."

Tracy’s expression immediately turned dramatic. Hope morphed into shock, then disbelief, then pure fury.

"What?" she breathed, rising from her chair. "Maxwell, what are you talking about? You promised you’d help me!"

"Yes, I did. But I can no longer carry on with it. Billy Jones is better suited for the job."

*Better suited because he’s not in love with you,* I thought, watching the drama unfold with satisfaction.

Tracy’s composure cracked completely. "This is about him, isn’t it?" she spat, her eyes flashing toward me with pure venom. "About this little secretary of yours? Did he convince you to abandon me?"

*Secretary? Oh, that stings even more than errand boy.*

Maxwell’s voice turned cold. "This decision has nothing to do with my assistant. This is about maintaining appropriate professional boundaries."

"Professional boundaries?" Tracy laughed bitterly, "Maxwell, I’m facing the death penalty! This isn’t the time for professional boundaries!"

"Which is exactly why you need an attorney who can focus solely on your legal defense," Maxwell replied, "Not someone who... has history with you."

For a moment, Tracy just stared at him, her chest rising and falling with rapid, angry breaths. Then, to my complete shock, tears began streaming down her flawless cheeks.

*Oh, she’s good. She’s very good.*

"Maxwell, please," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I’m scared. I’m so scared, and you’re the only person I trust. The only person who knows me well enough to prove my innocence. You’re one of the best lawyers in New York. Everyone is scared to go against you in the courtroom. You have to do this for me, please."

*And there it is. The manipulation I’ve been waiting for.*

"I’m sorry, Tracy," he replied firmly. "My decision is final. I’ll have my assistant call Billie Jones office this afternoon to arrange the transfer of your case files."

Tracy’s tears dried up instantly, replaced by intense fury.

"Fine," she said, her voice low and deadly. "Fine, Maxwell. But don’t think I’ll just disappear from your life because you’re too much of a coward to face what’s between us."

Then she grabbed her purse from the chair and walked out of the office.

The office immediately fell silent after the door banged behind her. Maxwell stood behind his desk, staring at the door Tracy had just exited through.

I remained by the door of the inner office, not sure whether to speak or retreat to my corner desk or simply disappear entirely.

Finally, Maxwell sank into his chair, suddenly looking exhausted.

"Well," he said quietly, "that went better than expected."

*Better than expected? I wonder how many situations like this he’d experience if he could refer to this as ’better.’*

"Don’t just stand there looking like a lost kitten, Hopton. Come clean this mess up and make that call to Billie Jones immediately."

*Oh, right. We’re back to business.*