Chapter 146: Chapter 146
Olivia’s POV
After leaving that toilet water on Maxwell’s desk, I grabbed my phone and my wallet and headed out of the office for lunch.
My heart was still racing with the audacity of what I’d just done. Part of me was terrified - what if the water kills him or something? Who knew what these wealthy people’s bowels were made of - but a larger, more vindictive part of me was practically glowing with satisfaction.
That’s what you get for making me scrub your already-clean bathroom, you arrogant ass.
Luckily, Julian had given me his number back in the restroom, typing it into my phone while I’d sat on the floor still shaking like a leave. "Call me during lunch. You need to tell me exactly what Ken said."
He’d also been incredibly kind - while I was changing in the men’s restroom, he had apparently gone back to Taylor’s and gotten the iced tea Maxwell had originally requested, making it easier for me to save time.
Sometimes I wonder what I would’ve done without him. Heaven bless the day we crossed paths. I’ll be grateful to him for a very long time.
I pulled out my phone and quickly typed out a message.
Me: Meet me at Taylor’s. I’m ready to tell you everything.
Julian: On my way, babe. Order me something with extra espresso. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.
When I arrived at Taylor’s, I found a quiet corner that was private, but not so isolated that anyone would think we were having some kind of secret meeting. Just two coworkers grabbing lunch and gossiping, completely normal.
A few minutes later, Julian came in, and I waved him over, beckoning on him to come sit.
Before he even sat down, he leaned across the table with wide, eager eyes. "Start spilling. Everything. Now. What did Ken say to you?"
I took a deep breath, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention to us. Then, in a low voice, I told him everything. The blackmail. The proposition. The three-day deadline. Ken’s casual cruelty, the way he’d looked at me like I was a thing to be used rather than a person.
Julian’s eyes got wider and wider with each detail, until they were practically bulging out of his head.
"Are you SERIOUS?" he hissed, "he’s actually blackmailing you? For sex? Ken - sweet, nerdy, supposedly-harmless Ken?"
I nodded miserably, picking at the sandwich I’d ordered. "I don’t know what to do anymore, Julian. I feel like I’m drowning. Between Maxwell’s cruelty, and Damien staring at me like he knows something, and now Ken threatening to expose me unless I become his secret fuck buddy..." My voice cracked slightly. "Maybe I should just tell Maxwell the truth. Confess everything. And then plead with him not to throw me in jail or sue me for fraud, because I will never - NEVER - agree to Ken’s blackmail."
"NO!" Julian reached across the table and grabbed my hand, squeezing hard. "Absolutely not. Do not even think about telling Maxwell the truth. Not yet."
"But Julian..."
"Listen to me." His expression was serious in a way I rarely saw. "You have put yourself through absolute hell these past few weeks. You’ve bound your chest until you can barely breathe, worn a disguise every single day, dealt with Maxwell’s psychological torture, handled David’s threats - you deserve to at least get one paycheck out of all this suffering."
I blinked, surprised by the vehemence in his voice.
"You’re right," I said slowly.
I mean, that had been my original plan, hadn’t it? Back when things first got difficult, back when Maxwell had demoted me and I’d considered running. Stay until the first paycheck. Get that money. Maybe even... steal a little extra compensation for all the trauma. And then flee the country with Mitchell and Kira.
The thought made me smile inside. That would be the ultimate revenge plan - disappearing with Mitchell and Maxwell’s money, leaving him with nothing but his toilet water and his confusion.
"Exactly," Julian said, reading my expression and grinning. "Now you’re thinking smart. But in the meantime, we need to handle the Ken situation."
"How?" I asked desperately. "He gave me three days. Three days to either agree to become his sex toy or he exposes me."
Julian’s jaw clenched, anger flashing in his eyes. "That disgusting piece of..." He cut himself off, taking a breath. "Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to talk to Ken. Appeal to whatever shred of decency he might have buried under all that entitled asshole energy."
"You think that will work?"
"Honestly? I have no idea. But I have to try." He squeezed my hand again. "You’re not doing this alone, babe. We’re going to figure this out together."
I felt tears prickling at my eyes from relief and gratitude. "Thank you, Julian. Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you."
"You’d probably have already committed murder," he said matter-of-factly, making me laugh. "Now eat your sandwich. You look like you’re about to pass out."
We spent the rest of lunch talking about other things - Mitchell’s continued reign as queen of my apartment, Maxwell’s craziness towards his ex-girlfriend...
When our bill arrived, I asked the server to pack up two extra sandwiches and another drink for later.
Julian raised an eyebrow. "Planning to eat all that yourself? Or are you feeding a small army?"
"Period cravings," I explained, not bothering to elaborate. "I eat like a starving animal during my cycle. It’s embarrassing how much food I can put away."
"Ah." Julian nodded knowingly. "Say no more. I once ate an entire pizza, a pint of ice cream, and a family-size bag of chips during my last..." He paused, glancing around, then leaned in. "Well, you know. Hormones are a bitch."
I appreciated that he didn’t make it weird or ask invasive questions. Just accepted it and moved on.
"Alright," Julian said, checking his phone. "It’s 12:50. We should probably head back before our respective bosses decide we’ve abandoned them."
"Maxwell probably wouldn’t even notice," I muttered. "He’s too busy being evil."
"Oh honey, he’d notice." Julian gave me a knowing look. "That man notices everything about you. Trust me."
I wanted to ask what he meant by that, but we were already standing, gathering our things, and heading back toward the office and whatever fresh hell awaited us there.