CHAPTER 70: CHAPTER 70

Olivia’s POV

The first thing I noticed when I finally regained consciousness was warmth. Soft, luxurious warmth that felt nothing like my mattress at home. The second thing was a gentle vibration against my chest, accompanied by the most soothing purring sound I’d ever heard.

Wait. Purring?

My eyes flew open, and I found myself staring into a pair of stunning green eyes that looked a little bit familiar. The white cat was curled up against me like we were long-lost soulmates, its fur practically glowing in the afternoon light streaming through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Oh no, no, no..." I whispered, reality crashing down on me. I was in Maxwell’s bed. With Maxwell’s cat. In Maxwell’s bedroom. The same ’off-limits’ bedroom.

How long was I unconscious? What time is it? Oh God, what if he was still waiting for me at the office, probably angry by now. Why do I feel so weak and where the fuck is my phone?

"Well, well, well."

The deep, calm voice made every muscle in my body freeze. My head snapped up, and there he was - Maxwell - standing at the foot of his own bed with fury radiating from every part of his body. His injured arm was looking whole again without the bandages.

*When had he removed it? I could’ve sworn it was there this morning.*

His green eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made my soul want to evacuate my body.

Those eyes. The same color as his cat’s eyes. Of course they were.

"I can explain!" I squeaked, shooting upright so fast that the cat went tumbling. But instead of fleeing like any sensible cat would, the traitorous little furball immediately began climbing back onto the bed, purring like a motorboat and rubbing against my arm.

"No, no, no!" I frantically pushed the cat away, my eyes never leaving Maxwell’s face. "Bad cat! Go away! I don’t know you! We’re not friends!"

The cat, apparently deaf to my trembling voice and my impending doom, purred even louder and attempted to climb into my lap.

"I said NO!" I practically shrieked, gently but desperately pushing the cat away again. "I don’t know how you got here! I don’t know why you’re being so friendly! I definitely wasn’t cuddling with you!"

Maxwell’s eyebrow arched slightly as he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, watching me.

"I wasn’t cuddling with your cat!" I insisted, even as the cat made another attempt to claim me as its new best friend. "I don’t even like cats! I’m more of a... a... fish person!"

Fish person? Really, Olivia? That’s what you’re going with?

The cat, clearly offended by my declaration, gave me what could only be described as a dirty look before finally leaping off the bed.

Maxwell stepped forward and scooped his pet into his arms, the cat immediately settling against his chest with a contented sigh.

Of course. Even the cat preferred Maxwell.

"Mr. Hopton," Maxwell started, his voice deep and dangerous, "would you care to explain what you’re doing in my bedroom?"

Think, Olivia, think! What’s a reasonable explanation for breaking into your boss’s bedroom and taking a nap with his cat?

"I... I lost my way," I blurted out.

Maxwell’s other eyebrow joined the first one in arching up slightly. "Lost your way."

"Yes! I was just trying to leave after getting the documents, and I got completely turned around."

"Did you retrieve the documents?" he asked in a strangely calm voice.

"Yes!" I scrambled off the bed - his bed, oh God - and nearly fell down in my haste to reach the folder that had fallen near the door when I was trying to escape. "Here they are, Sir."

Maxwell took the documents from my trembling hands, his fingers briefly brushing mine. Even in my panic, I couldn’t ignore the little jolt of electricity from that brief contact.

"Right, well, I should go," I voiced out, walking toward the door. "Sorry for invading your privacy, sir. I honestly don’t know what came over me. After I realized I was in the wrong room, I tried to leave, but the door wouldn’t budge, and somehow I ended up on your bed. Must have been the exhaustion from all the getting-lost."

Maxwell’s eyes tracked my every movement as I made my way to the door. "Mr. Hopton."

I froze mid-step. "Yes, sir ?"

"Where did you find my study?"

"Downstairs," I answered, wondering where the question was coming from.

"I see." He stroked his cat thoughtfully, and I swear the cat gave me a smug look. "And how, exactly, did you manage to lose your way from the ground floor all the way up to the top floor of my house when you could’ve just grabbed the documents and return to the office?"

The blood drained from my face as I realized I’d been trapped. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My brain, apparently tired of providing terrible lies, decided to go on strike.

"I..." I started, then stopped. "Well, you see..." Another pause. "The thing is..."

Maxwell waited with the patience of a saint and the stare of a serial killer.

"The thing is, the house is just so beautiful, and your staff said it was okay to look around, so I thought I’d use the opportunity to see everything. I didn’t mean to end up in your bedroom! She clearly warned me against it, but I ended up here by mistake. I didn’t mean to fall asleep with your cat."

*Oh God, why was I blabbing too much?*

Maxwell was quiet for a long moment, just studying me with those eyes. Then he nodded toward the seating area near the massive flat-screen TV.

"Go sit on the couch, Mr. Hopton."

My heart sank. "Sir, I need to return to the..."

"The couch. Now."

I walked over to the sofa, wondering what the hell was going on. Why wasn’t he showing signs of anger? Why was he offering me a seat instead? This shit was scary.

The couch was practically the most comfortable thing I’d ever sat on, which somehow made everything worse. Even Maxwell’s furniture was mocking me.

Maxwell, still cradling his cat, walked to the entertainment center and picked up a remote.

He turned on the TV, and my blood turned to ice water.

"I have something to show you," he said calmly.

Immediately, the screen was filled with a clear security feed of his bedroom. I watched in horror as a very familiar figure - me - slipped through the door like some kind of spy. The video captured everything: me walking around his room, examining his personal belongings, and yes, stealing his cat right off its bed.

"Oh no," I whispered, watching how I’d covered the cat with a blanket, trying to run before finally feeling dizzy and crawling into Maxwell’s bed.

The footage was damning. Indisputable. I looked like a complete lunatic burglar with a weird obsession with cats.

When the video ended, I slid off the couch and onto my knees without thinking.

"Please don’t fire me!" I begged, pressing my palms together in plea. "I know it looks bad, but I really wasn’t stealing anything! I was just curious! And your cat is incredibly friendly!"

Maxwell said nothing. His face was completely unreadable.

"I’ll work harder! I’ll organize your entire life! I’ll learn how to make your favorite coffee! I’ll even figure out how to drive properly! Just please don’t..."

"Enter."

The single word cut through my pleas. Before I could process what was happening, the bedroom door opened and two uniformed police officers stepped inside.

My life immediately flashed before me.

"No, no, NO!" I scrambled backward on my hands and knees like I was deranged. "You can’t do this! I didn’t steal anything! I was just petting your cat! That’s not illegal! Is it? Please tell me that’s not illegal!"

The officers looked between Maxwell and me. Then one of them pulled out handcuffs.

"Sir, please!" I was literally crying now, realizing I’ll probably sleep in the men’s cell. "I can’t go to jail! Please don’t do this. You can’t send me to prison over a cat please!"

Maxwell looked down at me with those cold green eyes and said absolutely nothing.

"I’ll do anything!" I sobbed. "I’ll be the best assistant you’ve ever had! I’ll never touch your cat! I’ll pretend cats don’t exist! Please, I’m begging you!"

The officers stepped closer, and I could practically see my future flash before me. Orange jumpsuits. Prison food. Explaining to my male cellmate that I was a woman in the wrong cell, or just saying the truth, and adding extra charges for fraud to my sentence.

"This is all a misunderstanding!" I wailed as one officer reached for me. "I’m not a cat thief!"

But Maxwell turned away instead and headed for the stairs, his cat still purring contentedly in his arms. He didn’t look back. Not once.

"Sir!" I screamed after him as the officers pulled me to my feet. "Sir please, I won’t do it again, I swear."

But he was already gone, climbing the stairs to his cat’s little house.