Chapter 178

Chapter 178
Andrew's POV

I glanced at my watch, timing it perfectly. Exactly one hour had passed since my coffee meeting with Mrs. Harrison. Time to set the final part of my plan in motion. I took a deep breath and approached Mr. Harrison's office, deliberately making my steps hesitant and my expression uncertain.

"Mr. Harrison," I began, stumbling over my words, "there's something I... I should probably report to you."

His eyes narrowed at my uncharacteristic stammering. "Speak clearly, Andrew."

"Mrs. Harrison has gone to the Carlyle Hotel and... requested male companions for the evening."

The atmosphere in the executive suite instantly crystallized. The tension became so palpable I could practically see it shimmer in the air. Mr. Harrison's expression remained controlled, but the darkness in his eyes betrayed him.

I kept my gaze respectfully lowered but pressed forward with my calculated risk: "Given your instructions about the contract marriage not involving interference in Mrs. Harrison's personal affairs, I didn't arrange any intervention. But I thought you should know."

After a strategic pause, I added, "Should I prepare for your 3 PM meeting as scheduled, sir?"

The silence that followed felt endless. I could feel sweat forming under my collar as I waited for his reaction. When he finally spoke, his voice was dangerously quiet.

"Cancel it."

The pen he'd been gripping clattered onto the desk. I nearly sighed with relief until I caught his piercing gaze as he stood and reached for his coat.

"Where were you during lunch, Andrew?"

My breath caught. He suspected something.

"Nowhere special, sir," I managed, striving for casual confidence. "Just escorting those specialists from Switzerland downstairs."

Mr. Harrison studied me for a moment. "Is that so?"

I nodded, maintaining eye contact despite the cold sweat now soaking my shirt. "Yes, sir."

He didn't push further, but something in his expression told me he wasn't entirely convinced. As he strode toward the door, his command cut through the chilled air:

"Get the car ready."

I suppressed a smile as I watched him leave. My plan was working perfectly. Sometimes, the most stubborn people needed an emotional catalyst to see what was right in front of them.

As I picked up the phone to relay his instructions to the driver, I silently wished Mrs. Harrison luck. She would need it—Mr. Harrison was not a man who appreciated being manipulated, even for his own good.

But then again, Mrs. Harrison was not a woman to be underestimated either.

Olivia's POV

I settled into a corner sofa on the second floor of the Carlyle Hotel, purposely choosing a spot visible from the entrance. The champagne flute before me was barely touched—just enough for appearance's sake.

"The men you requested have arrived, Mrs. Harrison," the concierge informed me with professional discretion.

The gigolos filed in, each more handsome than the last. They lined up with practiced poise, and their apparent leader—tall with perfectly symmetrical features—stepped forward.

"How would you like us to entertain you this evening, Mrs. Harrison?" He reached for the champagne bottle, preparing to pour me another glass.

I raised my hand to stop him. "That won't be necessary. Just stand there, please."

Their confusion was evident, but they complied. I kept checking my phone discreetly, waiting for Andrew's text. When it finally came—"One minute ETA"—I felt a flutter of nervousness that surprised me.

I locked my phone screen and almost reached for my champagne to steady my nerves before thinking better of it. Instead, I looked up at the bewildered models.

"I'd like some fruit, please."

They sprang into action, one fetching juice while another prepared a fruit platter with surprising efficiency. As one of them handed me a perfectly peeled grape, the private room door flew open with enough force to make everyone jump.

Everyone except me. I'd been expecting it.

Maxwell stood in the doorway, his expression controlled but eyes blazing. Though he must have rushed over, his breathing was even, his posture commanding. He slowly surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on each gigolo before finally settling on me.

"Leave us," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

When the gigolos hesitated, looking to me for confirmation, I nodded. "Your compensation will be handled. Thank you."

Within seconds, we were alone, the door clicking shut behind the last man. I twirled the grape between my fingers, feigning nonchalance as Maxwell approached.

"I'm pretty sure our contract said no meddling in each other's personal lives," I said coolly. "So what are you doing here, Mr. Harrison?"

Before I could pop the grape in my mouth, he grabbed my wrist and knocked it out of my hand—gentle enough, but I could feel how tense he was.

"Avery needs both his parents," he said. "We should give him a real family."

That wasn't what I wanted to hear—not after everything Andrew had told me about his condition, his fears, what he was really feeling.

I tried to yank my wrist back, but he held on tight. When I realized he wasn't letting go anytime soon, I quit fighting and looked him straight in the eye.

"That's funny," I said. "Because when I brought this up before, you made it pretty clear that according to our contract, Avery would have either a mom or a dad in his life—not both at the same time."

Maxwell's jaw clenched. "Andrew told you everything, didn't he?"

For a second, I panicked that Andrew had ratted out our meeting, but Maxwell kept talking before I could say anything.

"The contract doesn't matter anymore, Olivia. We've got the marriage certificate, we had the wedding, and we have Avery. Let's try making this real."

I knew Maxwell well enough by now to see what was driving him—that sense of responsibility. Just like Dylan, he was the type who took his commitments seriously. But after learning the truth, I wanted more than just duty.

"Is this for Avery, or for me?" I pressed, my heart pounding. "If it's just for Avery, we can put the contract aside for now. But we don't need to fake it for the rest of our lives just because of our son—"

He moved fast, pinning my wrist against the back of the couch and leaning in close. His lips grazed my cheek as he whispered:

"For Avery, yeah. But mostly for you."

I held my breath as he kept going, his voice quiet and rough.

"What happened with the poisoning... it's had me stuck in my own head, scared to deal with what this marriage has turned into. But now, Olivia, if you want to try—I mean really try—let's ditch the contract and be a real family. You, me, and Avery."

Even though I knew what I wanted to say, I needed to hear one more thing. "What if you change your mind later? What if you shut me out again?"

"I won't," he said, his voice quiet but sure. "I can't go through that again."

That was all I needed. I reached up and kissed him first—better than any words I could've said. Maxwell kissed me back right away, his hand sliding to the back of my head as he pulled me deeper—just like that first night when we'd both stopped thinking straight.