Chapter 91: Chapter 91
Olivia’s POV
Kira and I stood there looking confused for awhile, both wondering if Maxwell was going to suddenly appear from thin air, ready to arrest us for cat-napping.
"We can’t just leave these boxes outside forever," I finally said.
"You’re right," Kira nodded, though she looked like she’d rather be doing literally anything else. "But I’m calling dibs on not being the one to explain this to the police if Maxwell shows up with a warrant."
We each grabbed a box - and holy hell, they were heavy. Whatever Mitchell traveled with, she definitely didn’t pack light. It took both of us working together to haul all three boxes inside through the already scattered chaos, while Mitchell supervised from her throne on our couch, looking thoroughly unimpressed with our struggling.
"Okay, moment of truth," I said, approaching the first suitcase with caution. "What do you think is in here?"
"Knowing Maxwell Wellington? Probably a lawsuit," Kira muttered.
I unzipped the first suitcase, and immediately a white envelope caught my attention. My name was written across it in Maxwell’s handwriting which somehow managed to look smug even on paper.
"There’s a note," I announced.
"Well don’t just stare at it, read it!" Kira edged me on.
I opened the envelope with trembling fingers and pulled out a single sheet of paper. Kira crowded next to me, and together we read Maxwell’s message:
*Mr. Hopton,*
*Congratulations. You have successfully disrupted the peaceful existence of my perfectly content cat. Since your little encounter, Mitchell has been absolutely insufferable - pacing around the house like a lovesick teenager, refusing her gourmet meals, and staring longingly at the front door as if waiting for her new obsession to return.*
*Apparently, she has developed an attachment to you that borders on the ridiculous. Therefore, I am temporarily surrendering custody of my Persian princess until she comes to her senses and remembers where her loyalty should lie.*
*Consider this your problem now.*
*She has expensive tastes. Don’t disappoint her.*
*M. Wellington*
*P.S. - She only eats organic, grain-free food served on crystal dishes. The cheap stuff will be met with a hunger strike.*
Kira and I stared at each other in stunned silence, then slowly turned to look at Mitchell, who was sitting regally on our couch, grooming her paw.
"Did... did Maxwell Wellington just dump his cat on us because she has a crush?" Kira asked incredulously.
"I think that’s exactly what happened," I replied, still processing the surreal situation.
Just then, something hit me like a lightning bolt, and I froze completely. The realization was so shocking that I had to grab Kira’s arm to steady myself.
"What? What is it?" Kira asked, alarmed by my sudden stillness.
"Maxwell doesn’t know this address," I whispered in a barely audible voice.
Kira looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean Maxwell doesn’t know Oliver’s address," I repeated, my voice growing stronger with panic. "But he knows Olivia’s address because he came here with Gabriel that night to pick me up."
The color drained from Kira’s face as understanding dawned. "Wait... if he sent Mitchell to Olivia’s address, and Oliver is supposed to be a completely different person living somewhere else..."
I nodded grimly. "Then Maxwell knows my true identity."
"Oh shit," Kira breathed. "Do you think he’s been playing with you this whole time?"
"I think he probably knew all along and has just been punishing me for being a fraud," I said, feeling a mix of dread and embarrassment wash over me.
Kira started pacing around the living room in panic. "We need to be absolutely sure about this. You can’t just assume..."
"I’ll find out tomorrow," I interrupted. "I’ll ask Julian to help me figure it out... assuming he actually shows up to work."
"Good plan," Kira agreed, though she still looked deeply unsettled. "But for now, we might as well see what other surprises Mr. Wellington has sent along with his furry little spy."
We turned our attention to the remaining suitcases, and what we found inside made my jaw hit the floor.
The second suitcase was like opening a treasure chest designed by someone with unlimited funds and a serious shopping addiction. There were luxury cat spa products that probably cost more than the fifty thousand dollars for my bail - monthly organic shampoos, conditioners, and what appeared to be actual aromatherapy oils designed specifically for felines.
"Is this... is this a diamond-studded collar?" Kira held up what looked like jewelry that belonged in a museum.
"I think it is," I said weakly, pulling out a cashmere cat bed that was softer than anything I’d ever owned. "And look at this - there’s an entire grooming kit with gold-plated brushes."
But that wasn’t even the most ridiculous part. The third suitcase contained what could only be described as a mobile cat palace. There were crystal food and water dishes, a selection of gourmet organic cat foods in packages, and toys that were clearly handcrafted by artisans.
"Olivia, look at this," Kira said, holding up a tiny cat-sized four-poster bed complete with silk curtains. "This cat has better furniture than we do!"
I pulled out a miniature Persian rug - an actual Persian rug sized for a cat - and a collection of custom-made cat outfits, including what I swear was a tiny tiara.
"There’s also a temperature-controlled cat carrier," I announced, feeling more ridiculous with each item I discovered. "And... oh my God... is this a cat massage therapist’s contact information?"
"This is absolutely insane," Kira laughed, "Maxwell Wellington has basically sent us a mobile luxury resort for his cat."
As if summoned by our conversation about her, Mitchell gracefully descended from the couch and padded over to where I was sitting surrounded by her belongings. Without any ceremony, she settled herself right next to me, curling up against my leg and beginning to purr like a tiny motor.
The warmth of her body and the gentle vibration of her purring was comforting, and I found myself automatically reaching down to stroke her very soft fur.
"Well, I guess that settles it," Kira observed with amusement. "You’ve been officially adopted by royalty."
Mitchell looked up at me with those piercing green eyes - so very similar to Maxwell’s that I couldn’t help but wonder if this was all part of a scheme. Was she here as a spy? A peace offering? Or was Maxwell genuinely just dealing with a lovesick cat?
"What am I supposed to do with you, princess?" I murmured to Mitchell, who responded by nuzzling closer and purring even louder.
Kira and I continued going through Mitchell’s suitcases, marveling over her extensive wardrobe collection.
And when next I looked down at her again, she’d fallen asleep against my leg with complete trust and contentment.