Olivia's POV
Getting Maxwell up the stairs to the private jet was a challenge that required both me and the flight attendant - the same one who had welcomed us on arrival, and who I'd heard someone refer to as Claire.
She looked at Maxwell's pale face with concern.
"Sir, are you sure you don't want to wait until you're feeling better?" Claire asked as we hauled him up each step.
"I'm fine," Maxwell insisted through gritted teeth, though his breathing was labored and his face had gone from pale to almost gray.
I was getting seriously worried now. The man looked fragile in a way I'd never seen before, and his stubborn pride was the only thing keeping him upright. I just hoped that stubbornness would be strong enough to keep him alive until we landed.
Once we got him inside the plane, Maxwell immediately headed for the private bedroom at the back, and collapsed onto the bed with a groan that he tried to disguise as a sigh.
