CHAPTER 204: CHAPTER 204

Olivia’s POV

I stormed back into the house, my entire body vibrating with rage.

Rage at Maxwell. Rage at the situation. Rage at myself for caring so much.

Why do I even care? Why does it hurt this much?

I forcefully took my seat at the dining table, barely looking the faces around me. My parents, Kennedy, Kira, Gabriel, that damn imposter in my clothes.

Everyone was staring, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Maxwell had known who I was this entire time. Since I’d walked into his office as Olivia, asking for love advice about his best friend. He’d known I was Kennedy’s sister. Known about my family. Known everything.

And he’d still been cruel.

The memory of every cold word, every dismissive look, every moment he’d made me feel small and worthless came flooding back. Not as Oliver - because he didn’t know about that disguise - but as Olivia. The woman who’d come to him for help and been treated like garbage.

Who does that? Who treats someone like that when they’ve never wronged you...

My chest tightened painfully, and I pressed my hand against it, trying to ease the ache.

Why does it hurt so much? Why?

It wasn’t like my feelings for him had grown or anything. I didn’t have feelings for Maxwell Wellington beyond physical attraction and sexual desires. So why did this betrayal feel like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart until it couldn’t beat properly?

"Olivia?"

My mother called out, her voice disrupting my thoughts. I looked up.

Everyone was staring at me. My parents looked concerned and worried, Kennedy was... Kennedy wasn’t in his seat anymore. Kira was watching me too, her expression filled with confusion. Gabriel looked concerned but relaxed. And the imposter...

The imposter was studying me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

Right. The imposter. I was going to ask Maxwell about that.

But instead, I’d gotten so angry, so hurt, that I’d forgotten to demand answers about the person literally wearing my alter ego like a costume.

"Where’s Maxwell?" Mom asked gently.

"I don’t know," I mumbled, looking down at the table.

"I’ll go check on him," Gabriel offered, starting to stand.

But Kennedy’s voice cut in from the doorway - he must have just returned from wherever he’d disappeared to. "I’ll do it."

Gabriel settled back into his seat with a slight nod. "Of course."

Kennedy disappeared back outside, and an uncomfortable silence fell over the table.

Kira cleared her throat, turning her attention to the imposter with a forced smile. "So, Oliver! Tell us about yourself. What’s it like working for Maxwell?"

The imposter - Oliver, or whoever they really were - cleared their throat and launched into what was clearly a rehearsed story.

"I’ve been working for Mr. Wellington for a month now as his personal assistant. It’s been an incredible opportunity."

"He must treat you well then," Mom said warmly.

"Oh, very well," Not-Oliver said with a smile that made me want to throw something. "Mr. Wellington is an excellent employer."

I couldn’t stop the eye roll. Kira caught my expression and I saw her fighting back a similar reaction.

Excellent employer. Right. Tell that to Oliver - the real Oliver - who’s been terrorized since the very beginning.

None of this made any sense. How had this imposter even gotten here? Did this mean I couldn’t go back to being Oliver? What about the search for Mitchell? And most importantly - was I still getting paid my salary this week?

Because if Maxwell thought he could just replace me and not pay me, he had another thing coming.

"What about your family?" Kira pressed, and I could hear the edge in her voice. She was fishing for inconsistencies. "Any siblings? Parents?"

Not-Oliver’s expression turned somber. "I was orphaned early, unfortunately. Never knew my father - he abandoned my mother after getting her pregnant. It wasn’t until she was on her deathbed that she revealed I was a Hopton."

Oh, please. I scoffed internally. Where did you get that sorry story from?

My phone buzzed in my lap. A text from Kira.

Kira: This is complete BULLSHIT. This imposter might be someone dangerous. How can we let him sit on the same table with us.

I typed back quickly: We need to do something about this. But what?

"Olivia." Mom called out with a warning. "Put your phone away at the table. We have guests. Talk to Gabriel at least."

Reluctantly, I pocketed my phone and turned to Gabriel.

Looking at him was like looking at a slightly different version of Maxwell - after all, they’re best friends. And suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to me.

Did Gabriel know too? Was he pretending during our date? Has everyone just been playing me this whole time?

"So," I said, forcing my voice to sound casual, "how’s work been going? It’s been a while."

Gabriel nodded, "Yes, It has. But work has been fine."

"That’s nice to hear."

"How’re things with you?"

"Things are great."

We fell into a casual conversation, but I couldn’t focus. Every response I gave was stiff and monosyllabic, while my mind spun in circles around Maxwell.

Why? If he knew who I was, why was he so cruel? What did I do to deserve being treated like that?

Both at his office and at that restaurant, he had mocked me about my outfit. Had humiliated me with his words. Had debauched me with his mouth. Had looked down on me.

Why would someone who knew you, who was friends with your brother, treat you that way?

Unless...

The thought hit me like lightning, and I stood up so abruptly my chair scraped backward with a loud screech.

No. No, no, no. It can’t be.

Everyone stopped talking, all eyes turning to me.

But I couldn’t see them. Couldn’t hear them. Could only hear Maxwell’s drunken voice from that night echoing in my head.

"Olivia. You came back. Finally. Why’d you take so long?"

"You came into my life like this beacon of hope. And I thought... finally. Finally someone who..."

"But you destroyed it. Destroyed everything. That light. Just... gone. You disappeared."

I grabbed the edge of the table, my vision blurring as memories I couldn’t quite grasp flickered through my mind like a damaged film reel.

A boy. Laughter. Someone holding my hand. Running. Group of boys...

And then nothing. A blank space where something important should have been.

How could I be his Olivia? The one he’d been searching for? The one he loved so much he’d become obsessed? The one he hated enough to want to destroy?

The room started spinning, and I heard my mother’s voice as if from very far away.

"Olivia? Sweetheart, are you alright?"

Everyone was standing now, hovering around me, reaching for me, asking questions I couldn’t process.

Where? When? How could I have forgotten something this important?

The front door opened, and I heard Maxwell’s voice before I saw him.

"What’s wrong? What happened?"

He must have seen me swaying, must have noticed everyone’s concern, because suddenly he was pushing through my family, his hands reaching for my shoulders.

"Olivia, what’s..."

"Don’t touch me!" I yelled at him. "Stay away from me!"

Maxwell froze, his hands dropping immediately. Something flashed across his face, but he backed away, moving to the opposite side of the table where he sat next to Kennedy without a word.

Kennedy looked between us, but said nothing.

The spinning slowed. The memories faded back into that frustrating blank space. My breathing gradually returned to normal.

"I’m sorry," I said, my voice shaking as I lowered myself back into my chair. "I’m sorry, I just... I felt dizzy for a moment. Low blood sugar, probably."

But even as I said it, I looked across the table and found Maxwell’s eyes on me.

He was watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

He knows. He knows that I know.

Or at least that I was starting to suspect.

Something was wrong here. Something deeper than just Maxwell knowing I was Kennedy’s sister. Something that involved the two of us, our past, and memories I couldn’t access.

And I was going to get answers.

Today.

Even if I had to corner Maxwell Wellington and refuse to let him leave until he told me everything.

"Are you sure you’re alright, honey?" Mom asked, her hand on my shoulder.

"I’m fine, Mom. Really." I forced a smile. "Just need some water."

Gabriel immediately stood to get it, but my eyes never left Maxwell’s.

Across the table, he stared back at me, his jaw tight, his hands clenched on the table.

And in that moment, I saw something in his expression that made my heart stutter.

Fear.

Maxwell, the cold, calculating manipulator who never showed weakness, looked terrified.

What are you hiding? I thought desperately. What happened between us that I can’t remember?

Gabriel returned with water, and I drank it, still maintaining eye contact with Maxwell.