Stranger in my Ass-Chapter 247

Olivia’s POV

After we all finished packing, Kira escorted us to the airport in a hired exquisite van. The drive was tense and quiet, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

I kept sneaking glances at Kira, wanting desperately to pull her aside and warn her properly about Damien. About his blackmail. About the danger she was walking into by staying behind with him.

But Gabriel’s hand was laced through mine, and Kennedy sat in the front passenger seat turning around every few minutes to smile at Kira, and there was no opportunity for private conversation.

When we arrived at the private airport where Maxwell’s jet waited, gleaming white in the afternoon sun, Kira immediately pulled Kennedy aside for their goodbye.

I watched them - the way he held her face between his hands, the way she leaned into him like he was her anchor. The whispered words. The promises to call. The kisses that seemed to go on forever.

Gabriel stood beside me, his arm around my waist, pulling me close against him.

And that’s when I realized Maxwell had been eerily quiet since breakfast.

Not a single word during packing. Nothing in the car. Just silence.

I glanced toward him and found him already staring at me.

Of course he was.

Maxwell was always staring. Always watching with those green, intense eyes that seemed to see straight through me.

I was getting used to it now. Could feel his gaze even when I wasn’t looking. Like a physical touch against my skin.

And I knew if I asked him why he was staring, he’d throw it back at me - how did I know he was staring unless I was also looking?

So instead of cowering under his gaze or shifting uncomfortably like I always did, I did something I’d never done before.

I looked directly at him and blew him a kiss.

His eyes widened in shock. His entire body went rigid.

For a moment, he just stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

Then he blinked, shook his head slightly, and turned on his heel, marching up the stairs to the plane without a word.

I bit back a laugh.

Finally, Kira extracted herself from Kennedy’s embrace and came over to me.

I pulled her into a tight hug, my mouth near her ear. "Be mindful of Damien," I whispered urgently. "Don’t let him confuse you. Please remember you’re with Kennedy now."

Kira squeezed back. "I have everything under control, Liv. Don’t worry."

I wanted to say more. Wanted to tell her about the blackmail, about everything.

But Gabriel was watching, and Kennedy was approaching for one final hug, and there was no time.

"I’ll join you in Tokyo soon," Kira promised as we pulled apart. "A few days, max. I promise."

"You better." I forced a smile.

We boarded the plane - Kennedy first, looking like a man walking to his own execution, then Gabriel and me.

Once inside, Kennedy took the single seat alone near the front, slumping into it and staring out the window with a pained expression.

Gabriel led me to a pair of seats in the middle, and we settled in, his hand finding mine immediately.

Maxwell sat further back, facing us, his phone in his hands, his expression neutral.

The pilot’s voice came through the intercom. "We’ll be taking off in five minutes. Please buckle your seatbelts."

Gabriel buckled his, then reached over to help with mine, his fingers lingering at my waist.

"You know," he murmured, leaning close so only I could hear, "we should kiss. Right here. Right now."

I turned to look at him. "What?"

"To make it look real." His eyes flicked briefly toward Maxwell, then back to me. "I’ve noticed the way he looks at you. The way he watches. He’s doubting us, Liv. We need to show him there’s nothing to doubt."

I glanced back at Maxwell. He appeared completely absorbed in his phone, scrolling through something with focused attention.

Except his phone was upside down.

And the tension in his shoulders, the rigid set of his jaw, the way his thumb wasn’t actually moving on the screen - it all screamed that he was pretending.

I tried not to laugh at how obvious he was being.

"Okay," I whispered to Gabriel. "Let’s give him a show."

Gabriel’s smile was slow, satisfied. "That’s my girl."

He cupped my face with both hands, his thumbs brushing my cheeks, and then he kissed me.

Hard.

Hot.

Demanding.

His lips moved against mine smoothly, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and I found myself responding instinctively. Gabriel was a good kisser - really good. The kind of good that came from experience and confidence.

His hands moved from my face to my waist, pulling me closer, and I let him. Trusted that he knew the boundaries, that this was all for show.

But God, he was making it look real.

His fingers tangled in my hair. His other hand splayed across my lower back, holding me against him. The kiss deepened, became more intense, and I could feel heat building despite knowing this was performance.

Distantly, I heard a sound - like someone clearing their throat aggressively.

Gabriel ignored it, his mouth moving to my jaw, trailing kisses down my neck.

Another throat clear. Louder this time.

"Do you two need a room?" Maxwell’s voice was sharp, cold.

Gabriel pulled back just enough to look at him, his lips still brushing my skin. "Actually? Yes. We do."

Before I could process what was happening, Gabriel was standing, pulling me up with him, his hand firm in mine.

"Where..." I started.

"The bedroom." He was already walking, leading me toward the back of the plane where I knew there was a small but private room. "Maxwell’s absolutely right. We need privacy."

My heart started hammering for entirely different reasons. "Gabriel..."

But we were already at the door. He opened it, pulled me inside, and closed it firmly behind us.

Through the closing gap, I caught a glimpse of Maxwell’s face.

He looked absolutely murderous.

Maxwell’s POV

This was unbelievable.

Were they really going to do it? Were they actually going to have sex in there?

I stared at the closed door, my mind refusing to process what had just happened.

I hadn’t meant it literally when I’d told them to get a room. It was just a generic phrase. Something people said when others were making out in public.

But Gabriel had taken it as an invitation. Had actually taken Olivia into the bedroom of my plane and closed the door.

Damien’s evil words echoed in my mind: What if they’re actually truly dating? What if it’s real?

No.

I wouldn’t - couldn’t - let them desecrate my plane. Not when I hadn’t even had the opportunity to do that with Olivia first.

I stood up, my wound protesting the movement, and started walking toward the bedroom.

"Maxwell?" Kennedy’s voice stopped me. "Where are you going?"

"My wound is acting up," I said without turning around. "I need to rest. In a proper bed."

"But Olivia and Gabriel are..."

I was already opening the door.

The sight that greeted me made my blood boil.

Olivia was pressed against the wall, her hair mussed, her lips swollen. Gabriel’s hands were on her waist, his mouth on her neck, and they both froze when the door opened.

"Maxwell!" Olivia’s voice was breathless, shocked.

"Out." My voice came out flat, dangerous.

Gabriel straightened slowly, his hands not leaving Olivia’s waist. "Excuse me?"

"I said out. Both of you. Now."

"This is a bedroom..."

"On my plane." I stepped fully into the room. "My plane. My bedroom. And I need to rest."

"We were here first..."

"I don’t give a damn." I was advancing now, and something in my expression must have warned Gabriel because he actually stepped back. "Get. Out."

Olivia was staring at me with wide eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her lips were red from Gabriel’s kisses, her neck marked with the evidence of what they’d been doing.

And I wanted to kill him.

Wanted to erase every touch, every kiss, every mark he’d left on her skin.

"Maxwell, this is ridiculous..." Gabriel started.

"Three seconds." My voice dropped to something lethal. "Three seconds before I physically remove you."

"You’re injured..."

"Two seconds."

Gabriel looked at Olivia, clearly trying to decide if this was worth fighting over.

"It’s fine," Olivia said quickly, her hand on Gabriel’s arm. "Let’s just go. It’s not worth it."

"But Liv..."

"Gabriel. Please."

He finally relented, his jaw tight with frustration. "Fine. But this is childish, Maxwell. Even for you."

I said nothing as they filed past me, Olivia not meeting my eyes, Gabriel glaring daggers.

The moment they were out, I slammed the door and locked it.

Then I stood there, breathing hard, my hands clenched into fists.

I could still smell her perfume in the air. Could see where they’d been against the wall. Could imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t interrupted.

"Fuck," I muttered, running my hands through my hair.

This was getting out of control.

My feelings, my jealousy, my absolute inability to watch her with someone else without wanting to burn the world down.

I needed to get myself together. Needed to stick to the plan. Be her friend. Win her trust. Wait for Kennedy to convince her to work for me. Be patient.

But my patience was beginning to evaporate.

And watching Gabriel touch her - kiss her - take her into a bedroom...

I sat down heavily on the bed, my wound screaming in protest.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Go away," I called out.

"It’s me." Olivia’s voice. Quiet. Uncertain.

I stared at the door, warring with myself.

Every instinct screamed to leave it locked. To maintain distance. To not do something I’d regret.

But it was Olivia.

And I’d never been able to resist her.

I stood and opened the door.

She stood there alone, her arms wrapped around herself, looking vulnerable in a way that made my chest ache.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

I stepped back, letting her in.

This was a terrible idea.

But when had that ever stopped me?