Maxwell's POV
I was pacing the room like a caged animal, trying to burn off the frustration coursing through my veins.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Each step sending a sharp reminder through my stitches that I should probably be lying down.
I didn't care.
I hated this place. Hated the arrangement. Hated being in New Delhi when everything had been going perfectly in Tokyo. Things were finally progressing with Olivia. We'd agreed to be friends. We'd had that moment in my bedroom. She'd been warming up to me.
And then we came here, and now she was two doors away from me, sharing a room with Gabriel fucking Gregory.
Why did Damien have to get in trouble at this exact sensitive time?
I was so caught up in my internal rant that I completely forgot I wasn't alone in the room.
"You know, if you don't find somewhere to sit, you're going to kill us both."
