Chapter 68: Chapter 68
Olivia’s POV
Instead of cowering like I usually did, something in me snapped instead. Maxwell Wellington had no right to look through my phone.
Straightening my shoulders, I gave him a hard stare, "Why did you look through my phone?"
Maxwell’s eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting me to challenge him.
"Your phone was blowing up the entire elevator ride. It was only human to check what was so urgent that it couldn’t wait five minutes."
"Human?" I let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah right."
His lips twitched - whether in amusement or annoyance, I couldn’t tell. But then his expression shifted, becoming more serious.
"Are you trying to take down my company, Mr. Hopton?"
"What?" The word came out sharper than I intended, confusion flooding my voice.
Maxwell leaned against my desk, crossing his arms as he studied me with those piercing eyes. "Are you a corporate spy? Sent here by a rival company?" His voice was calm, but I could hear the steel underneath. "Because I have to wonder how you dared to bring your friend in here to help you go through confidential company documents."
"No one was here!" I protested, gesturing around the empty office. "I was the only one in this office. I worked all through the night - alone!"
"Then where did you get the box, Mr. Hopton?"
I blinked, momentarily taken aback by the question. "The box? I... I ordered it."
"You ordered it?"
"I called my mom to bring it very early this morning," I explained, feeling ridiculous even as I said it. "But you know how mothers are - she decided to add ribbons because apparently a plain cardboard box wasn’t dramatic enough for her son’s workplace."
Maxwell’s eyes narrowed slightly. But surprisingly, he wasn’t backing down.
"If you’re absolutely certain that no corporate spy came in here to rifle through my case files," he said, pushing off from the desk, "then we’ll just have to check the cameras."
Before I could respond, he was already heading for the door. My stomach dropped momentarily. But instead of panic, I suddenly felt a surge of determination. I followed him.
"Fine," I said, "Let’s check the cameras. I want to know too."
Maxwell glanced back at me, and for a split second, I thought I saw something like confusion flash in his eyes, but he masked it quickly.
We rode the elevator down to the security floor in silence. When the doors opened, several security guards looked up in surprise.
"Mr. Wellington!" One of them - a burly man with graying hair - nearly knocked over his tea cup as he scrambled to his feet. "Sir, we weren’t expecting you. Is everything alright?"
"Just need to review some footage from last night." Maxwell said. "Executive floor."
"Of course, sir. Right this way."
We crowded into the small monitoring room, screens flickering with various camera feeds. The security guard pulled up the footage from the executive floor, fast-forwarding through the night.
And there I was - alone, working through the night like some kind of vampire. But then something strange happened. The footage flickered, pixelated, and went completely black for several hours right before I removed my wig and entire Oliver disguise.
"What’s that?" I asked, pointing at the screen.
The security guard frowned, tapping at his keyboard. "Looks like a glitch. The system’s been acting up lately - we’ve had several corrupted files this week."
I felt a chill run down my spine. The same thing had happened at the karaoke bar. But this time around, the stranger had been thoughtful enough to erase my discriminating part. When Maxwell had demanded to see the camera footage, I hadn’t remembered what I’d done last night until now. Oh my God. *Thank you, Mr. Stranger.* I muttered inwardly.
Maxwell seemed to accept the explanation of the security guard. His jaw tightened slightly but he nodded.
"Thank you," he said curtly. "That’ll be all."
We rode back to the executive floor in silence, the tension thick between us. Once we were back in his office, Maxwell settled behind his desk and looked at me expectantly.
"Coffee," he said simply. "Same as yesterday."
I nodded, grateful for the excuse to escape his penetrating stare. "Yes, sir."
As I walked down to Taylor’s, I couldn’t help but wonder why Maxwell hadn’t pushed further regarding the CCTV footage. Did he actually believe it was just a simple glitch? Or he wasn’t just interested in the footage at all, just trying to destabilize me?
But then, how had the stranger gained access to the security room? What if he also works in this company? But come to think of it, he might actually be working in this company. That’s the only way to explain his easy access to and fro. He probably has the company access card.
A cold chill went through my body as I imagined him here last night. Was he standing over me? Or was he sitting behind Maxwell’s chair, watching me sleep? I was at my most vulnerable state, he could’ve easily harmed me and gotten away with it.
What do I do to stop this? I needed to speak with him again. But how? Maybe I should go back to the Karaoke bar tonight and wait for him.
Yes! That’s what I’ll do.
I got to Taylor’s and made my order, thankful I’d gotten extra raw sugar packets yesterday - at least I wouldn’t have to face going to the Organic market again this morning.
The barista handed me Maxwell’s coffee, and I made my way back to the office.
"Your coffee, Sir," I said, setting it on his desk.
He nodded without looking up from his computer, and I was just about to retreat to my desk when my stomach decided to make its presence known. A loud, embarrassing growl echoed through the office.
Maxwell’s fingers stilled on his keyboard, but he said nothing.
Oh God.
Another growl, even louder this time. When was the last time I’d eaten? Yesterday’s lunch felt like a lifetime ago.
Then I remembered - the vacuum flask. My mysterious stranger’s food.
I practically dove for my desk, retrieving the sleek container. I settled into my chair and unscrewed the lid, and immediately the most incredible aroma filled the office. Rich, mouth watering, heavenly - whatever was inside smelled like it had been prepared by angels.
My stomach gave another loud desperate growl, and all pretense of professionalism flew out the window. I was starving. I grabbed the spoon and dug in like I hadn’t eaten in weeks, practically inhaling the contents.
It was some kind of gourmet pasta dish with what tasted like ingredients from another planet. Each bite was more amazing than the last, and I found myself making little satisfied sounds as I ate.
That’s when I felt it - the weight of someone’s stare.
I looked up to find Maxwell watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite place. His coffee sat forgotten in front of him, his full attention focused on me as I sat there with a spoon halfway to my mouth.
Slowly, I dropped the spoon back inside the bowl and swallowed the remaining food in my mouth as Maxwell kept watching me with those penetrating eyes.
"Why are you eating like that?" he finally asked, his gaze fixed on my lips.
Like what? Like a normal human being? I thought, but instead replied, "I forgot myself, sir."
"So that’s how you normally eat?" he pressed, tilting his head slightly.
"No sir, I was just hungry," I mumbled, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
"Hungry at this time of the morning?"
"Yes sir, I haven’t had anything since lunch yesterday."
Maxwell’s eyebrows shot up. "And whose fault is that?"
"Mine, sir," I replied automatically, though internally I was screaming YOURS! It’s YOUR fault for keeping me hostage with paperwork until midnight!
Maxwell just shook his head and waved his good hand dismissively. "Hurry up with your food. You need to go to my house and retrieve a document I forgot - it’s in my home office, on the desk. Blue folder labeled ’Hathaway Contract.’"
I almost choked on my food. His house? Alone?
"Your... your house, sir?" I stammered, trying to contain my excitement.
"Is there an echo in here, Mr. Hopton? Yes, my house. The address is in your phone from your last driving disaster."
I nodded quickly, practically vibrating in my seat. Finally! Operation capture Mitchell is a go! My first attempt at revenge.
"Take the company car - and for the love of all that’s holy, try not to traumatize any more innocent bystanders with your driving."
"Yes sir, absolutely sir!" I said, probably a little too enthusiastically.
Maxwell narrowed his eyes at my sudden burst of energy. "It’s just a document retrieval, Mr. Hopton. You look like I just told you Christmas came early."
If only you knew, I thought, grinning internally. Your precious Ms. Whiskers is about to become mine.
*******
An hour later, after hailing a cab - because I obviously couldn’t drive - I stood outside Maxwell’s mansion, holding the spare key he’d given me and trying to look casual. The security guard at the gate had barely glanced at me - apparently Maxwell had called ahead.
Step one: Get the document. Step two: Find the cat. Step three: Somehow convince a pampered Persian to come with a complete stranger. Step four: leave immediately without getting fired, arrested, or murdered.
Simple enough, right?