Stranger in my Ass-Chapter 230

Olivia’s POV

The silence after Kennedy left was deafening.

I sat there, wrapped in my towel, dripping water onto the lounge chair, acutely aware of Maxwell’s presence. The night air suddenly felt cooler against my wet skin, or maybe that was just the mortification setting in.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

"You watched me nearly drown and did nothing?" The words came out sharper than I intended. "Are you that heartless?"

Maxwell’s smile was infuriatingly calm. "So Kennedy was right then? You did that for attention?"

"No!" I sat up straighter, pulling the towel tighter around myself. "I wasn’t faking anything. I’d been swimming for a while and suddenly got weak underwater. My stamina gave out."

He studied me for a long moment, his eyes moving over my face like he was reading a book written in a language only he understood. "Right. Stamina."

"It happens!"

"In three feet of water."

"The depth is irrelevant!"

"Mmm." That infuriating hum that meant he knew exactly what I’d been doing but was choosing not to call me out directly. "Where’s your boyfriend?"

The subject change threw me. "He’s upstairs. He’ll join us soon."

"Will he?"

"Yes."

More silence.

I snuck a glance at Maxwell. He was looking at the Tokyo skyline now, his jaw tight, his fingers drumming against his thigh.

Say something, I willed him. Anything. Yell at me for risking my life. Tease me. Play one of your twisted games.

But he just sat there, quiet and distant, like I was a stranger sharing pool space.

It hurt more than I wanted to admit.

********

Maxwell’s POV

I had never been this tongue-tied in my entire life.

Maxwell Wellington. CEO. Love Coach. Master manipulator. The man who always had the perfect thing to say to throw people off balance.

And I was sitting here like a mute idiot, unable to form coherent sentences.

Maybe it was because Olivia was sitting there in the bikini I’d bought her - yes, I’d bought it, had it placed in her apartment while she’d slept that morning, along with several other items I thought would look incredible on her body. The deep burgundy color looked even better than I’d imagined, clinging to curves that made my mouth go dry.

Maybe it was because her hair was wet and slicked back, droplets of water trailing down her neck and disappearing into her cleavage.

Maybe it was because despite the embarrassing drowning incident - which had been so obviously fake it was almost endearing - she still looked at me with those eyes. Those damn eyes that was too cute, that made me want to confess everything and nothing all at once.

Or maybe it was because I was aroused. Actually, painfully aroused. And if I spoke, if I let my guard down for even a second, I might say or do something that would completely derail the plan.

The plan. Right. Ignore her. Keep distance. Let Kennedy work his magic first. Then swoop in with the job offer. Professional. Controlled.

Except sitting here with her, with those eyes on me and that body barely covered and the memory of how she’d felt beneath me still burned into my skin...

I needed to say something. Anything normal.

"How are you finding Tokyo?" The words came out rougher than intended.

"It’s beautiful," she said softly.

Beautiful. Like you. Like you look right now. Like you looked this morning when you thought I wasn’t watching. Like you’ve looked every single day since I met you.

I clamped down on the thoughts and went quiet again.

What should I say now? I had nothing. Literally nothing that wouldn’t betray exactly how much I wanted to drag her back to my room and show her just how much she was affecting me.

Should I just leave? Cut my losses and retreat before I did something stupid?

I was contemplating making an excuse when Gabriel appeared.

"Maxwell!" He greeted me enthusiastically, then turned his attention to Olivia. "Hey, you okay? Want to grab some dinner?"

"I’m okay," Olivia said, and I hated how her voice softened when she spoke to him. "Not hungry yet."

I wanted to interject. Wanted to tell Gabriel how she’d "almost drowned," to tease her, rattle her, get some kind of reaction that proved she still felt something when I was around.

But I wasn’t in that mood. Couldn’t be. Not with my dick throbbing hard like it was about to burst, and my self-control hanging by a thread.

Olivia stood up, and I forced myself not to track the way the towel fell to the chair, revealing her wet bikini.

"Come on, let’s swim," she said to Gabriel, reaching for his hand.

Seriously?

She was going back into the same water that had "nearly traumatized" her? The same pool where she’d just performed the worst fake drowning in the history of fake drownings?

At least if she was going to pretend to drown for my attention, she should commit to the bit. Not immediately jump back in with another man.

Gabriel let her lead him to the pool, and I watched as they both slipped into the water.

And then she did it.

She swam around him. Sensually. Deliberately. Her body moving through the water like a mermaid, getting close to him, brushing against him, laughing at something he said.

Her hands touched his shoulders as she pretended to need stability. Her legs kicked near his, their bodies tangling in the water in ways that made my vision tint red.

My blood boiled. My anger soared so high I could taste it.

If I stayed there one more second, I would do something I’d regret.

I’d dive into that pool and drag her away from him. I’d kiss her in front of Gabriel and everyone else until she couldn’t remember her so called boyfriend’s name. I’d claim her so thoroughly that every person in this hotel would know exactly who she belonged to.

Instead, I closed my laptop with more force than necessary, grabbed my things, and left.

For my sanity - and hers - I needed to avoid her until Kennedy talked to her. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

The plan. Stick to the plan.

Even if it was killing me.

Kira’s POV

We were at another dinner meeting at one of New Delhi’s most prestigious restaurants - all gilded décor and crystal chandeliers, the kind of place where the waitstaff moved like ghosts and the prices weren’t listed on the menu.

I stood near the entrance of the private dining room, scanning the space while Damien conducted business with three potential clients.

"The security contract would be comprehensive," Damien was saying, his voice confident and authoritative. "Full protection for your executives, both domestic and international travel, plus cybersecurity measures for your data infrastructure."

I let their voices fade into background noise, my attention on the exits, the windows, the other patrons.

The meeting lasted for two hours. By the time they finished. it was past eleven PM.

"Good work tonight, Kyle," Damien said as we left the restaurant. "Your presence always makes clients feel more secure."

"Just doing my job, sir."

"Still. I appreciate it."

The compliment made something warm unfurl in my chest. I stamped it down immediately. You’re quitting. Remember that.

We emerged from the restaurant into the warm New Delhi night. The hotel car was waiting at the curb, exactly where it should be.

"Finally," Damien sighed, loosening his tie. "I need a drink and about twelve hours of sleep."

"Sounds like a solid plan, sir."

We walked toward the car, as I scanned the street. A few pedestrians. Some late-night traffic. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The driver stepped out to open the door for Damien.

Something felt wrong.

It was subtle - just an instinct, really. The way the driver’s movements were slightly too rigid. The way he avoided eye contact. The way his hand trembled just barely as he reached for the door handle.

"Sir..." I started.

Too late.

The driver yanked the door open, but instead of Damien getting in, three men poured out of the backseat.

Everything happened in seconds.

One man grabbed Damien from behind. Another lunged for me. The third pulled out a cloth and pressed it toward Damien’s face.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Is this what I think it is? Are we getting kidnapped?

I couldn’t stay back and do nothing. Couldn’t allow myself be kidnapped by unknown men. What if they were traffickers? Or worst organ harvesters?

Immediately, I grabbed the arm of the man coming toward me, twisted, and used his momentum to flip him onto the pavement. He hit hard with a satisfying thud.

Wow. Wow. Did I just do that? Maybe I could save us from this after all.

More men emerged from a van I hadn’t noticed, surrounding us.

"Kyle!" Damien’s voice was muffled against the cloth - which was probably filled with chloroform - his eyes wide with shock as he struggled against his captor.

I fought toward him, landed a solid kick to one attacker’s knee, dodged another’s grab...

Pain exploded at the back of my head.

Someone had hit me. Hard.

The world tilted, my vision blurring. I stumbled, tried to stay upright, tried to keep fighting...

Another blow.

Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision.

The last thing I saw before everything went black was Damien, unconscious now, being dragged into the van.

Then nothing.