Stranger in my Ass-Chapter 223
Olivia’s POV
No.
No. No. No. No.
"Tokyo?" I repeated, my mind racing. "Tomorrow?"
"Is that a problem?"
Yes! I wanted to scream. I have a vacation planned with Gabriel! I’m supposed to be escaping!
But I knew Maxwell. Knew that stubborn set to his jaw, that calculating look in his eyes. If I refused, he’d find a way to force me. He’d probably drag me onto the plane himself if necessary.
"No problem at all, sir," I heard myself say, "I’ll start packing now."
"Good." Maxwell’s eyes locked with mine, and there was something in them I couldn’t quite read. "Pack for formal occasions. We’ll be attending several high-profile events. I need you presentable."
"Of course."
"And Oliver?"
"Yes?"
"Bring your passport. We leave at six AM sharp. Don’t be late."
I nodded and left the study, my mind whirling.
Six AM. He expected me to be ready at six AM.
Well, I wouldn’t be here at six AM. I’d be long gone.
The moment I was back in my room, I closed the door and leaned against it, taking a deep breath.
Okay. New plan. Escape tonight.
I couldn’t wait anymore. Couldn’t risk another day of Maxwell’s games. The Tokyo trip was clearly another manipulation, another way to keep me trapped here.
No more.
I was going on that vacation tomorrow, and nothing was stopping me.
I started moving through my room immediately, checking every drawer, every corner, removing any trace that could expose me as a woman. Oliver’s clothes stayed - they were part of the disguise. But anything feminine - makeup hidden in the bathroom, contraceptives, few pieces of jewelry I’d kept, the sports bra under the mattress - all of it went into my bag.
I couldn’t leave any evidence behind.
The cheque was already safely in my pocket, pressed against my chest like my way to freedom.
I changed into Oliver’s pajamas - loose cotton pants and a t-shirt - something that wouldn’t raise suspicion if anyone saw me wandering around at midnight.
Then I sat on my bed and waited.
And waited.
Sleep was impossible. My nerves were too frayed to eat or even sleep, my mind too active with plans and contingencies.
What if the guards didn’t accept the drinks? What if someone saw me leaving? What if Maxwell somehow figured out what I was doing?
No. Stop. You can do this.
The hours crawled by. Ten PM. Eleven PM. Eleven-thirty.
Finally, when my watch read midnight, I stood up.
Time to go.
I grabbed the small bottles I’d purchased from the pharmacy earlier and carefully made my way downstairs.
The mansion was silent, most of the staff long since retired to their quarters. Only the security remained, rotating shifts to monitor the grounds.
I headed to the kitchen, my heart hammering so hard I was sure someone would hear it.
The industrial-sized fridge hummed quietly in the darkness. I opened it, squinting at the bright light, and grabbed four bottles of expensive craft beer / the kind Maxwell always had stocked for his staff.
Working quickly, I opened three of them and carefully measured the liquid sleep aid into each one, using the dosage the pharmacist had recommended. Maybe a little extra, just to be sure.
The fourth bottle I left untouched - that one was for me, to avoid suspicion.
I recapped them carefully, making sure they looked unopened, and arranged them in my arms.
Then I took a deep breath and headed toward the front gate.
The security station was a small building near the entrance, equipped with monitors and comfortable chairs for the guards on duty. Through the window, I could see two of them - Mencer and Jeff - both former military, both built like tanks.
This had to work.
I knocked on the door, keeping my expression casual and slightly sheepish.
Mencer opened it, his hand instinctively going to his weapon before he recognized me.
"Oliver? What are you doing up?"
"Couldn’t sleep," I said, holding up the bottles. "Thought you guys might want to share a drink with me. It’s been a stressful week, and I figured we could all use something to take the edge off."
Mencer and Jeff exchanged glances.
"I don’t know, man," Jeff said from his seat. "We’re on duty..."
"Come on," I interrupted with an easy grin. "It’s just beer. Not like I’m offering you whiskey. Besides, when’s the last time you guys got to relax? Mr. Wellington works everyone too hard."
That got a chuckle from both of them.
"He does work us pretty hard," Mencer admitted.
"Exactly. So come on. One beer. Consider it a thank you for keeping us all safe."
After another moment of hesitation, Mencer stepped back to let me in.
"Alright, Oliver. One beer."
Victory surged through me, but I kept my expression neutral.
I handed them each a bottle - making sure they got the spiked ones - and kept the clean one for myself.
"To surviving another week with Maxwell Wellington," I toasted, raising my bottle.
They laughed and clinked their bottles against mine.
I pretended to take a long drink while watching them carefully. Both men drank deeply, clearly enjoying the break from their monotonous shift.
"This is good beer," Jeff commented. "Wellington has good taste."
"He does," I agreed, taking another fake sip.
We chatted about nothing important - sports, weather, their families. I kept the conversation light and easy, all while tracking the minutes in my head.
Ten minutes.
Fifteen minutes.
Jeff yawned first, covering his mouth with his hand. "Man, I don’t know why I’m so tired all of a sudden."
"Yeah," Mencer agreed, blinking hard. "Me too. Must be the beer hitting on an empty stomach."
"Maybe you guys should rest for a bit," I suggested casually. "I can watch the monitors."
"Nah, we’re fine..." Jeff started, but another massive yawn cut him off.
Mencer’s eyes were already drooping. He set down his bottle and leaned back in his chair. "Maybe just... five minutes..."
Within moments, both men were slumped in their chairs, breathing deep and even.
Asleep.
I stood there for a moment, my heart pounding in my ears, waiting to make sure they were really out.
Neither moved.
"I’m sorry," I whispered to their unconscious forms. "I’m really sorry."
Then I turned and walked out of the security station, my bag slung over my shoulder.
Freedom was just beyond those gates.
And nothing - not Maxwell, not Tokyo, not anything - was going to stop me now.
