Stranger in my Ass-Chapter 248

Olivia’s POV

What was I doing here?

The question circled through my mind as I stood in Maxwell’s bedroom, my heart hammering, my palms sweating.

I’d planned to tell him the truth once we got back to Tokyo. In a public place. Somewhere safe. With an escape route.

But I couldn’t wait anymore.

His attitude toward Gabriel and me just now - the barely controlled rage, the possessiveness, the way he’d looked at us with pure rage - it showed me that I needed to step up before it was too late.

And Damien’s threat hung over me like a guillotine waiting to drop.

I needed to come clean. Now. Before Damien told him first. Before Maxwell heard it as an accusation rather than a confession.

Besides, what could he really do right now? We were in the air. The worst thing he could do was call the cops and have them waiting when we landed. And before then, I could plead with whatever conscience he had left to forgive me.

After all, we were friends now. Right?

This was literally the best time.

I settled onto the edge of the bed, trying to gather my courage. Maxwell stood tall above me, his presence overwhelming, making it impossible to concentrate.

"Could you... could you sit?" My voice came out smaller than I intended. "Please?"

He moved slowly, lowering himself onto the bed beside me - not too close, but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

He said nothing. Just waited. Watching me with those green eyes that seemed to see everything.

I took a deep breath, my gaze dropping to my hands twisted in my lap. "I want to apologize first. For coming into your bedroom with Gabriel. It was rude and disrespectful, and I take full responsibility."

Silence.

I forced myself to look up at him. "Do you accept my apology?"

He nodded once. Sharp. Controlled.

But his expression was unreadable. No anger. No forgiveness. Just a blank mask that terrified me more than rage would have.

Was he still angry? Was now really the best time to do this?

"If you don’t feel like talking," I said, already starting to stand, "I can let you rest and come back later..."

"What did you come to say?" His voice cut through my retreat.

I sat back down. "I came to confess something."

"About what?"

The words stuck in my throat. I opened my mouth. Closed it. Tried again.

"First, you have to promise me something."

His eyebrow rose slightly.

"Promise you won’t get angry. Or throw me in jail."

"Did you kill anyone dear to me?"

"What? No!"

"Did you steal something of importance?"

"No, but..."

"Then you have nothing to worry about." His voice was calm. Too calm. "Go ahead."

"Are you sure?"

"What is it, Olivia?"

I sighed deeply, my entire body trembling. "Oh God. This is even harder than I thought. Where do I even start?"

"Start from the very beginning."

Right. The beginning.

"Okay." My voice came out barely above a whisper. "After that day I came to your Dr. Heart’s office - when you told me Alex wasn’t good for me - I went back to work only to discover he was being transferred to Wellington and Sons. He was moving to your company."

Maxwell’s expression didn’t change, but I saw something flicker in his eyes.

"And I was... I was obsessed with him. With Alex. For a very long time." The confession felt like pulling glass from a wound. "So I decided to follow him to your company. To secure a job there so I could be close to him."

"You secured a job in my company?" Maxwell’s voice was still controlled, but there was an edge now. "And I didn’t know about it?"

"Yes."

"As what?"

I looked down at my hands, unable to meet his eyes. "As a junior associate at first, then as your personal assistant."

The silence that followed was deafening.

I could feel him staring at me. Could feel the moment understanding started to dawn. Could feel the world tilting on its axis.

"Are you..." His voice came out strangled, disbelieving. "Are you trying to say..."

I forced myself to look at him. To meet those eyes that were now wide with shock.

"I am Oliver." The words came out in a rush. "Yes. Oliver Hopton. I’ve been disguising myself as a man to work as your personal assistant for the past month."

Maxwell stiffened. His entire body went rigid. His hands clenched and unclenched on his thighs, the knuckles going white.

"No." He shook his head, like he could physically reject the words. "No."

"Maxwell..."

"No!" His voice rose. "That’s not... you can’t be... Oliver is..."

"Oliver is me." Tears were streaming down my face now. "I wore short wigs. I wore binding. I practiced the voice. I learned to walk differently, act differently. I created an entire persona so I could work in your company. So I could be close to Alex."

Maxwell was staring at me like I’d grown a second head. Like I was speaking a language he couldn’t comprehend.

"You’re lying." But even as he said it, I could see him putting the pieces together. "This is some kind of joke. Some kind of..."

"It’s not a joke." I slid off the bed onto my knees in front of him, my hands clasped together. "I’m so sorry, Maxwell. I’m so, so sorry. I know what I did was wrong. I know I betrayed your trust. I know I committed fraud and lied to you for so long. But please...please... I’m begging you to forgive me."

He just stared at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his face cycling through emotions too fast to track.

Shock. Disbelief. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal.

"Oliver," he said quietly. "All this time. Every day. Every conversation. Every moment in my office..."

"Was me. Yes."

"The late nights working. The business trips. The times you..." He stopped, his face going pale. "The times I..."

He couldn’t finish the sentence.

But I knew what he was thinking. All the times he’d been inappropriate with Oliver. All the comments. All the looks. All the games he’d played.

"I deceived you," I said, my voice breaking. "I know. I’m a terrible person. I’m a liar and a fraud and I understand if you hate me. If you want to press charges. If you never want to see me again. But please, please understand that I never meant to do it intentionally. I was just trying to..."

A wave of nausea hit me.

Sudden. Overwhelming. Making the world spin.

I paused, gripping the edge of the bed, trying to breathe through it.

It passed. Just a moment of dizziness.

I started to speak again. "Maxwell, I..."

The nausea came back. Stronger this time. Violent.

My stomach churned. My mouth filled with saliva. My entire body rebelled.

"Olivia?" Maxwell’s voice seemed far away.

I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t do anything but scramble to my feet and run.

The bathroom was attached to the bedroom - thank God. I barely made it to the toilet before I was throwing up, my entire body heaving, tears streaming down my face from the force of it.

I heard movement behind me. Felt hands pulling my hair back from my face.

"Jesus Christ," Maxwell muttered.

I couldn’t respond. Could only grip the toilet bowl and retch until there was nothing left.

When the heaving finally stopped, I slumped against the wall, gasping for air, my entire body shaking.

Maxwell handed me a towel without a word.

I wiped my mouth, unable to meet his eyes. Of all the ways I’d imagined this conversation going, vomiting on his bathroom floor hadn’t been part of the plan.

"Are you sick?" His voice was carefully neutral.

"I don’t know. Maybe. Stress, probably." I tried to laugh but it came out as a sob. "Perfect timing, right? Confess my crimes and then throw up all over your bathroom."

He said nothing for a long moment.

Then: "Stand up."

I looked up at him, confused.

"Stand up," he repeated, extending his hand.

I took it hesitantly, letting him pull me to my feet. He guided me to the sink, turned on the water, handed me a cup.

"Rinse your mouth."

I did as instructed, the cool water helping settle my stomach slightly.

When I was done, I finally dared to look at him in the mirror.

His expression was still unreadable, but something had shifted. The shock was still there, but underneath it was something else. Something I couldn’t quite identify.

"Are you done?" he asked.

I nodded.

"You don’t have any more confessions? Any more revelations that will turn my entire world upside down?"

"That’s it. That’s everything."

"You’re Oliver."

"I’m Oliver."

"My assistant for the past month."

"Yes."

"The person I’ve spent nearly every day with. The person I’ve trusted with confidential information. The person I’ve..." He stopped again, his jaw clenching.

"I know. I know what I did to you. How I betrayed you." Fresh tears spilled over. "I’m so sorry, Maxwell. I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted to be close to Alex, and then everything spiraled out of control, and I didn’t know how to stop it."

"Alex." His voice was flat. "You did all of this for Alex."

"Yes. At first. But then..."

"Then what?"

I couldn’t finish. Couldn’t tell him that somewhere along the way, it had stopped being about Alex. That it had become about him. About Maxwell. About the man who drove me crazy and made my heart race and looked at me with eyes that made me hot all over.

"It doesn’t matter," I said instead. "The point is, I lied to you. I deceived you. And I’m sorry."

Maxwell was quiet for so long I thought he might never speak again.

Then: "Get out."

The words felt like a heavy blow to my face.