Chapter 135: Chapter 135
Olivia’s POV
My heart stopped completely when Sabrina pointed that gun directly at my chest and screamed, "You think you can steal him from me?"
"Steal him?" The words burst out of me in pure panic. "Hell no! He’s the last person I would ever steal! Please believe me!"
I was standing now - when had I stood up? - my hands raised high in the universal gesture of surrender. My legs were shaking so badly I was surprised they were still holding me upright.
"Olivia..." Maxwell’s voice came from behind me, calm and controlled.
"Don’t ’Olivia’ me!" I cut him off immediately, not even looking at him. My eyes were locked on that gun, on Sabrina’s trembling finger on the trigger. I turned my full attention to her, desperation making my voice crack. "I promise you, I have nothing to do with this man here. He’s not even my type! Please, please take him. I don’t want him!"
Sabrina’s eyes widened, her expression shifting from rage to shock. "Olivia?" she repeated slowly, "you’re the Olivia? His Olivia?"
Oh no. Oh God, no.
My eyes went wide as realization crashed over me. She thought I was Maxwell’s first love. The woman who’d broken his heart, the one he apparently couldn’t get over. I was about to die because of a case of mistaken identity involving some woman I’d never even met.
This couldn’t be happening. This absolutely could not be happening.
I raised my hands even higher - so high my shoulders were starting to ache. "I swear to God, I am NOT his Olivia! I can never be his Olivia! I’m just a girl who happens to have the misfortune of bearing that name, but I don’t know this man! I’ve barely met him! I swear to you on everything holy!"
"Olivia..." Maxwell tried again from his seat.
I whirled toward him, my panic turning into fury. "Why are you still just SITTING there?" My voice turned hysterical. "Please go to her! Explain to her that you don’t know me! Tell her something! ANYTHING!"
Maxwell just looked at me with that infuriatingly calm expression, like we were discussing the weather instead of my imminent death.
Sabrina’s gun wavered slightly as she looked between me and Maxwell, clearly torn now. Some of the rage had drained from her face, replaced by confusion. "If you aren’t his Olivia, then who are you? And what are you doing here with my man?"
I turned back to Maxwell, who was still sitting there like someone wasn’t holding a loaded weapon pointed at another human being. Of course he was less bothered - the gun was pointed at me, not at his stupid, infuriating self.
"Mr. Wellington," I said, my voice shaking with panic and anger, "do you care to clear the air with your girlfriend here? Say something! Tell her the truth!"
Maxwell finally spoke, his tone dry. "Well, that’s what I’ve been trying to say, but you keep interrupting me."
I wanted to scream. Actually scream.
He turned his attention to Sabrina, his voice becoming smooth and authoritative. "Sabrina, drop the gun and come sit down. Let’s talk about this like civilized adults."
"NO!" Sabrina’s hand tightened on the gun, her voice rising higher. "You will tell me who she is RIGHT NOW, or I swear to God, Maxwell, I will shoot her!"
"WHAT?" I nearly shrieked. "Please don’t shoot me! If you’re going to shoot anyone, shoot HIM! He’s the one who broke your heart! I’m just a nobody! A complete nobody!"
Maxwell’s lips twitched, like he was fighting back amusement. "Like she said, Sabrina. She’s a nobody. Just someone I’m trying to help."
I turned to stare at him. What!
He continued, his eyes fixed on Sabrina. "She’s been begging me for money for her mother’s surgery. I decided to help her out. That’s all this is - charity."
I blinked. That was the best he could come up with? My mother’s surgery? Really?
Sabrina’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Then why are you helping her out in an empty restaurant? Why does she look like she’s dressed for a date?"
Maxwell leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed despite the gun still pointed in my direction. "I took pity on her when I saw how malnourished and... intellectually challenged she appeared. So I bought her those clothes she’s wearing - couldn’t have her representing my charitable efforts looking like a homeless person - and decided to feed her a proper meal while I was at it." He paused, his eyes turning towards me. "You know I don’t like doing things halfway."
Malnourished? INTELLECTUALLY CHALLENGED? RETARDED?
Under any other circumstances, I would have thrown something at his head. But right now, with a gun pointed at me, I was willing to be called anything if it meant staying alive.
"Yes!" I nodded frantically, accepting his ridiculous story. "Yes, exactly! I’m very malnourished! This is also the first time I’m having a decent meal. My mother needs surgery and Mr. Wellington here is just being incredibly generous by helping me out!"
Sabrina studied me for a long moment, her grip on the gun loosening slightly. I could see her processing the information, weighing whether to believe it.
"Okay," she said finally, though her voice was still shaky. "Okay, I’ll believe your stupid story."
Relief flooded through me so intensely I thought my knees might actually buckle.
"But," Sabrina continued, and my relief evaporated instantly, "I want you to stand up right now, Maxwell. And follow me. We’re going home."
I turned to look at Maxwell, expecting him to argue or refuse. But was surprised when he nodded calmly. "Alright."
He stood with unhurried grace, adjusted his suit jacket, and walked toward Sabrina like he was simply leaving a boring business meeting.
When he reached her, he held out his hand, palm up. "The gun, Sabrina."
She stared at his hand for a moment, then at his face. Whatever she saw there made her shoulders slump in defeat. Slowly, she placed the gun in his outstretched palm.
Maxwell checked the safety with ease - of course he knew how to handle a gun - and slipped it into his jacket pocket like it was his phone or wallet. Then he placed his hand on Sabrina’s back and guided her toward the door.
And then he was gone. Just like that. Walking out with the woman who’d just threatened to kill me, getting into a car, and driving away like nothing had happened.
I stood there in the empty restaurant, my hands still slightly raised, my entire body trembling with the aftermath of adrenaline, as I watched these two crazy people drive away into the sunset.
The waitress peeked out from behind the kitchen door where she’d been hiding, her face pale. "Are... are you okay, miss?"