Chapter 11

NEXT MORNING, MAVERICK'S MANSION – SATURDAY

Sunlight filtered through the cream-colored curtains of the guestroom shining a light on Olivia's face as she remained fast asleep under a quilt. Her mouth was slightly open, a thin trail of drool trickling onto the soft mattress.

Outside the door, four maids anxiously bit their fingers. For the past hour, they had been trying to wake her, but she remained in a deep slumber. They weren't sure what to do now. They certainly didn't want to wake the young master.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway as Nanny Maya approached them, her face calm.

"Good morning, Nanny Maya," the young maids greeted.

"Our guest is still asleep?" Maya asked.

They nodded in unison.

She sighed. "Go tell cook to prepare a hangover soup in five minutes."

"Yes, Nanny Maya!" The maids scurried off, thrilled to be given a task to do. Just as Maya was about to enter the room, Zachary slipped up behind her.

"BOO!"

She jumped, startled, making Zach smirk in amusement. Frowning, she turned to him. "You shouldn’t do that to an old woman, Zachary."

"Come on, you’re not old, Nanny Maya," Zachary clicked his tongue. "She’s still asleep?"

Maya nodded. "She is. What did you do to her?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Zachary's eyes darkened for a moment before returning to their usual shade of blue. "Nothing. I’ll check on her. You can go."

Maya nodded, bowed slightly, and walked away. Zach pushed the door open and stepped inside, shoving his hands into his sweatpants pockets. The first thing he noticed was Olivia’s awkward sleeping position. Walking toward the bed, he stared down at her for a moment.

Her long brown hair sprawled across the bed, her pointed nose and long lashes resting against her delicate cheekbones. Her small red lips were slightly parted, inviting yet unaware. Zachary's gaze flickered to the dressing table, where a maid had placed her glasses after finding them on the floor the night before.

Just then, a light knock landed on the door before it opened. A maid entered with a tray, bowing. "Nanny Maya asked me to bring this."

"Give it to me," Zachary ordered coldly, picking up the steaming bowl of soup. "You can leave."

The maid scurried out without another word. All the staff were scared of this brother. She was relieved to leave his presence.

Turning his attention back to Olivia, Zach took a step closer to the bed. Lifting his hand, he tilted the bowl, letting the hot liquid spill onto her body—everywhere except her face.

"Aaahhh!" A piercing scream tore from Olivia’s throat as she jolted upright, leaping backward. The scorching soup seared her skin, burning like fire.

"What the hell is that and what are you doing in my room?!" she shrieked in pain, frantically tugging at her clothes.

"This isn’t your house, stupid," Zachary sneered. "After throwing yourself at me last night, I guess you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Pathetic."

"What?" Olivia gasped, barely registering his words. "Oh my God! It burns! Please, help me!" She whimpered, her body ablaze with pain. Red blisters had already begun to form, her skin threatening to peel.

A cruel smirk curled Zachary’s lips. "You can use the washroom."

Olivia didn’t hesitate. She dashed into the glass-walled bathroom without looking back.

A FEW MINUTES LATER

The maid who had run back in with Olivia's scream, carefully tended to Olivia, who whimpered and sniffled repeatedly. Zachary sat comfortably on a small love seat, legs crossed, his eyes never leaving her.

Olivia hesitated before lifting her gaze. The moment her eyes met Zachary’s, she quickly looked away, adjusting her glasses. "Tell me I didn’t sleep with you," she mumbled, her lips trembling.

Zachary remained silent, relishing the discomfort on her face. When the maid finished tending to Olivia’s burns, she left. Olivia rose to her feet, still dressed in the large t-shirt she had been given, but a terrifying thought gnawed at her—what if something really happened? No… she couldn’t bear the shame. As she turned to leave, Zachary’s voice halted her steps.

"I’ll send your sex tape in an hour. Now get out of my house."

She froze. Had it really happened? Humiliation crashed over her like a tidal wave. Slowly, she turned to Zachary, but his hollow, dark eyes sent a shiver down her spine. Without another word, she bolted out of the room, tears brimming in her eyes. She had no idea where she was running to. The mansion was vast, with endless hallways leading in every direction. Colliding into someone, Olivia quickly bowed her head. "I’m so sorry," she murmured before rushing away, fighting back sobs.

Liam watched her retreating figure, a frown tugging at his brows. What the hell did Zach do to her? He shook his head and walked off.

After stumbling through the corridors and receiving a few directions, Olivia finally made it out of the mansion and frantically punched in a request for an Uber on her app.

OLIVIA'S HOME

The moment Olivia stepped into the luxurious living room, a stinging slap landed across her cheek.

"Where have you been and what are you wearing?!" her father thundered.

Oh no! He’s back already.

"You don’t have to ask again, Dad," Madeline’s smug voice drifted from the railing upstairs. "I already showed you proof—she got wasted at a party last night and spent the night at some guy’s house."

Madeline smirked, enjoying the scene unfolding before her. Theodore glared at Olivia, his eyes scrutinizing her like a hawk eyeing its prey.

"I didn't do anything," Olivia tried to defend herself, but his palm flew across her cheek again, making her head snap to the side.

"Shut up! You dare speak when I'm speaking?! Since when do you attend parties?! Are you trying to ruin my reputation?!"

"I'm your daugh—"

He slapped her harder this time, leaving a red imprint on her pale skin, turning it purple. "Talk back again," Theodore dared.

"That's enough, Theo!" Amelia rushed into the living room, having just arrived home. She stepped in front of Olivia, shooting daggers at her husband. "She's your daughter, for Pete's sake!"

Madeline was enjoying the scene. Her lips curled into a smirk, wishing she could record it to show her friends—but then she would have to admit she was the loser’s sister. Hell to the no! Not wanting to disappoint her mother, she put on a solemn face. "Dad, why do you have to hit my sister?"

Theodore scowled and stomped past her back up the stairs.

Amelia turned to Olivia. "Baby, are you okay?"

Sniffling, Olivia ignored her mother and rushed to her room. Why does everyone hate me? Why am I so weak? She could endure it from anyone, but not her father. Why did he change toward her after she turned ten?

Entering her room, she pushed the duvet aside and buried her head in her pillow, letting the tears flow.