Chapter 90: Chapter 90
Olivia’s POV
Kira sat with her mouth wide open as she stared at me in bewilderment. I’d just finished telling her about my mysterious stranger - carefully excluding the mind-blowing sex part, because some secrets are meant to stay buried in the depths of one’s soul. But I’d spilled everything else: how he asked me to be his girlfriend, how he was the one who bailed me out of jail, and how he’d helped me get home last night after David’s crazy attempt at kidnapping.
When Kira finally regained a little bit of control, she blurted out, "I don’t believe you. This is absolutely impossible, Liv. You’re telling me you have some secret admirer who’s been lurking in the shadows, pulling strings behind your back like some kind of puppet master, and you have no idea who he is?"
"It’s true!" I insisted, reaching for the letter my stranger had left behind. "Look, here’s the proof."
I waved the letter in front of her face like it was a winning lottery ticket. Kira snatched it from my hands, reading it with the intensity of someone decoding an ancient code.
After a moment, she jumped up. "Wait, wait, wait! Is this stranger person IN the house right now?" Her eyes darted around wildly, scanning every corner like she expected someone to pop out from behind the curtains. "Oh my God, Olivia, are there cameras? Is someone watching us?"
She started walking around the living room, examining every hiding spot while muttering threats under her breath. "I swear on my grandmother’s grave, if I happen to come across David again, I’m going to scratch his eyes out with my bare nails. How could he try to kidnap you? That psychotic bastard better watch his back!"
"Kira, calm down!" I grabbed her arm, pulling her back toward the couch. "Forget about all that drama for now. My ears are practically itching to hear what happened at that party last night. Spill everything!"
Kira sat back down immediately, "Oh honey, you are NOT going to believe the absolute chaos that went down. Someone apparently recorded Sabrina and Vanessa kissing behind the yard - that area with all the palm trees and tropical sand. This unknown person then uploaded the whole thing on social media, and within minutes, it was everywhere - Instagram, TikTok, Twitter. They became viral lesbians overnight!"
I covered my mouth in shock. "Oh my God."
"Both Vanessa and Sabrina immediately went into damage control mode. They both found their respective men and started begging like their lives depended on it. They kept insisting it was just a mistake, that they got caught up in the overwhelming energy of the party and it just... happened."
"How did Alex and Maxwell take it?"
"Alex was surprisingly considerate about the whole thing. He actually listened to Vanessa, let her explain, though I don’t know if they’ll eventually work things out. But Maxwell?" She shook her head. "That man just abandoned Sabrina right there at the party and went home. Left her standing there still begging."
I let out a long sigh, feeling a mix of relief and sympathy. Relief that my stranger and I weren’t caught on camera in that same location, and sympathy for the girls. "Well, at least we won’t have to suffer through that disastrous dinner at Maxwell’s place tomorrow night."
Kira burst into hard laughter. "Oh my God, I almost peed myself when Maxwell suggested that we both come for dinner! I mean, seriously, what was he thinking? Did he somehow figure out our true identities and decided to torture us for fun?"
"I honestly don’t know," I admitted, feeling that familiar knot of anxiety in my stomach. "But Julian promised he’d help me figure it all out."
Kira nodded emphatically. "He better hurry up then. We need to know what’s going through that man’s head." She stood up and stretched. "God, I desperately need to freshen up and get some much-needed beauty sleep. When I wake up, I’m coming back to claim my fair share of all these fancy goodies you’ve acquired."
Just then, the doorbell rang, and we both froze.
"Are you expecting anyone?" I asked, knowing I wasn’t. But Kira shocked her head, looking as surprise as I am.
I walked to the door, wondering who could possibly be visiting at this time of day, and hoping it wasn’t David.
When I opened it, I found myself face-to-face with... with... Oh my God. Is that... Is that...
"AHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Kira came running over, "What’s wrong? What happened? Is it David? Do I need to call the police?"
I pointed down with a shaking finger, unable to form coherent words. There, sitting primly on my doormat like she owned the entire building, was Mitchell Wellington - Maxwell’s prized Persian princess cat. Her white fur was perfectly groomed, her green eyes sparking like a shiny emerald gem, and she looked every bit as expensive and sophisticated as her owner.
But that wasn’t even the most shocking part.
Beside Mitchell were three enormous suitcases, each one labeled with her name in bold, elegant lettering: "MITCHELL."
"Is that... is that Maxwell’s cat, Mitchell?" Kira whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Yes!" I squeaked. "That’s Mitchell Wellington, in all her fluffy, pampered glory!"
We stood there like two chickens who’d just witnessed a magic trick, our mouths hanging open as we tried to process this impossible situation. How on earth had Maxwell’s cat made it to our apartment? And what were those suitcases?
While we were still frozen in shock, Mitchell decided to take matters into her own paws. She rubbed against my legs affectionately for a moment, purring like a tiny engine, then strutted past us into the apartment like she owned the place.
"Did... did that cat just invite herself in?" Kira asked, watching in amazement as Mitchell began exploring our living room with the confidence of a queen inspecting her new palace.
"I think she did," I said, still staring at the suitcases on my doorstep. "And I have absolutely no idea what’s happening right now."
Mitchell had already claimed the best spot on our couch, settling herself down with the grace of royalty. She looked at us expectantly, as if to say, "Well? Aren’t you going to bring in my luggage?"
"Olivia," Kira said slowly, "I think we need to have a very serious conversation about what the hell is going on in your life right now."
I couldn’t argue with that. Between my mysterious stranger, and Maxwell’s cat delivering herself to my doorstep with what appeared to be her entire wardrobe, my life had officially entered the realm of the completely absurd.
"Should we... should we bring the suitcases in?" I asked weakly.
Mitchell meowed once, imperiously, as if to say "Obviously."