Kira's POV
"Who's Rebel?"
Maxwell asked, his voice filled with panic. I slowly lowered the hand that had gone up to cover my mouth, and looked up at him.
He was standing in front of me, looking a mess. His hair was disheveled, his tie loosened, and there was something in his eyes that might have been concern if I didn't know better.
I glared at him, my mind racing, trying to process everything at once.
Olivia was missing. Or hurt. Or something.
And this man - this absolute bastard standing in front of me - was her stranger. Her sweet, romantic, perfect stranger who wrote her beautiful messages and made her smile like a girl in love.
How? HOW was that even possible?
This was the same man who'd made her life a living hell at Wellington and sons. The same man who'd criticized every single thing she did, who'd frustrated her so much she'd come home fuming almost every day. The same man who'd been even worse when she was disguised as Oliver, treating her like absolute garbage.
