MaximilianI don’t know if it’s fear or wonder in her eyes as she opens the door wider for me without a word. I enter her apartment, my curious eyes mapping the place. I can never walk into a place and not make sure of my surroundings. It looks just as I remember it looking last time, and the faint smell of vanilla and something else is lingering in the air though not as strongly. “I hope the smell isn’t offensive to you,” she says as she closes the door. A brief smile tugs at the corners of my lips, but when I whirl around to face her, it’s gone from my face. “No, it doesn’t,” I reply. “The place smells just fine.”I can tell she wants to argue with me and remind me of what I said the first time I was ever here. I don’t know what drove me to say that. Anger, perhaps. Anger that I’d liked how the place smelled and that I’ll always associate this sweet scent with her.However, she asks instead, “What can I do for you, Mr. Loxley?”“I came here because I wanted to apologize to you fo
AdaThe way everyone at the Loxley Manor is acting toward me makes me feel like a celebrity of some kind, or a local hero. Two people still died, and I hadn’t predicted anything. There was no way I’d be able to save anyone when I didn’t know a bomb was going to go off to begin with. But that aside, I think it’s great to be back. My mother, Harry, and Damson are all mad at me. I don’t blame them. I myself changed my mind way too many times already and it can be clashing to anyone. Plus, there are always dangers involved to doing this, so that’s that. But this was a golden opportunity for me to come back. How could I discard it? I now know where the other office is. Maybe I’ll find something. I just need more time. Maximilian Loxley, someone I’d considered to be so arrogant and condescending, personally asked me to work for them again. He even told me that part of his life that I’m sure just have been difficult for him to talk about. I didn’t know he had a wife and that she’d die
Ada Two hours away from ending my workday, I’m near the garden cleaning some windows on the other side of the house when l hear laughter and splashing water. Curiously, I walk the few steps that will allow me to peer over the edge of the wall. I see Maximilian Loxley right away, and he’s holding Sammy who’s kicking his legs and laughing hysterically. His hair is wet and the strands are all practically glued to his forehead. His shoulders are bare; he’s probably only wearing swim shorts. And he’s smiling. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him genuinely smile before. I don’t know why I give a fuck about the scene before me. I think it’s because of the happiness it’s oozing. Sammy has such a cute laugh, and his uncle is holding his body just above the surface of the water as he kicks his legs, splashing water everywhere. “That’s it,” he says in his authoritative voice. “Keep kicking. Don’t stop.”“I’m trying!” Sammy exclaims. I can’t make myself look away, so I stand there for a handful
Maximilian “…Max?”I blink and snap my head in Rebecca’s direction. She’s staring at me with slightly wide eyes. “Did you even hear a thing I said?”“No, I’m sorry,” I reply as I cut into my steak. “What was that? You were talking about Sammy’s custody and then?”She arches a brow at me. “I’m worried about you, you know?”“There’s no reason why you need to be worried,” I assure her. “I’m just thinking, that’s all.”“You’re never distracted, Max. Not ever! And now, all you seem to do is daydream. Is something going on that you’re not telling me about?”“Like what?”“Like…” she begins, dragging the word, “the fact that Kelly confessed her feelings for you and you’ve been quiet about it like a dick for like four days?”I snap my jaw shut. As I look down at my plate of dinner, I realize that I’m not even hungry anymore. I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about this for so long and now, here it is, staring me in the face. “I don’t know, Rebecca. I don’t really want to talk about it.”“Why
AdaI’ve decided that I should keep my distance from Maximilian Loxley. I have the feeling that what’s happening isn’t healthy at all, and I need to get my priorities in order so I don’t forget what I’m doing here. What I mean is that there’s too much friendliness involved and that’s not good. I’m here for a specific purpose and won’t be deterred. So, I keep my head lower than usual during breakfast and force myself not to look at him. It’s not as easy as I thought, which means me wonder how often I actually looked at him. But whatever. That’s in the past now. I have to think about how I’ll get my hands on more information. When will I have the chance to make it upstairs again? I need to find an opportune moment where I won’t be caught. It’s important that I don’t get caught. Again. Today, I’ll be working on the sitting areas. It’s more responsibility but Mrs. Danes tells me that she thinks I can handle it. The good thing is that the sitting room isn’t too far from the stairs.
AdaWe're walking right toward the living room, which is where Rebecca and the contemptuous blonde woman are. "Max!" Rebecca exclaims joyfully before her eyes land on the bucket in his hand. Then, I see her brows knit together in confusion. The other woman wears the same look on her face. "I'll be back in a moment," he tells them before we continue walking past. I'm sure my presence attracts their attention because their eyes land on me simultaneously, and I'm forced to look away from their judging eyes. I follow him through the house. He seems to know where the kitchen is, at least. I don't have to give him directions. I mean, of course he knows where the kitchen is; this is his house, after all. It's still strange, though. We walk past a few employees who all give him these wild looks that stain my cheeks red. I know how this must look. Especially after the photos in the article. I don't want them to think of me as a Sheila. That would be dreadful. Maybe I should've stayed beh
Maximilian"I'm the one who has to deal with them, Mr. Loxley," she claims as she steps forward. She's so aggressive, this woman. I wonder if she even realizes it. "It makes my work experience here terrible.""And why is that?" I ask curiously. "Because everyone looks at me like I'm some Sheila!" she exclaims. "They think we have an affair and I don't want people thinking that!""They'll think we're having an affair because I helped you carry a bucket?" She clenches her jaw. "You don't get it, okay? Maybe you're just too rich to understand."I can feel a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "What does my financial situation have to do with any of this, Miss Johnson? I don't understand what you mean at all.""Forget about it," she claims before she whirls around. However, this time, I'm not going to let her escape so easily. I reach over and grab her arm before she can get away, and pull her closer. "No. Nothing will be forgotten. You're going to tell me exactly why you said tho
Ada Things with Maximilian Loxley are going too far. Instead of focusing on finding his father’s downfall, I’m more concerned about coming across him or not, and avoiding interactions between us. That’s a distraction, one I don’t need. Especially with my enemy’s son. I’ve poured myself a single glass of wine, hoping it will help me relax a little bit and get my thoughts in order. It does the opposite. I’m now thinking about how he looked right out of the shower, and it’s like his scent is stuck to my nostrils because it’s all I can smell when I breathe. I don’t have anyone to talk to about this. I’d just be judged and crucified. I have to do a better job at keeping him at arm’s length. If he’s trouble, then I need to be as far away from him as possible. As far as possible. My peaceful evening is cut short when I receive a visitor. A very unexpected one at that. It’s Harry, and he’s right downstairs, asking me to be buzzed in. I don’t ask him what he’s doing here. I’ll leave t
AdaHowever, regardless of how much I hope—of how much I pray for things to go my way—I still find that rarely happens. Because that woman, their family friend Kelly, is here for breakfast. I don't know why she's coming around so much. I mean, it's really none of my business, but why can't she stay away? What's wrong with her? How obsessed with Maximilian is she? Even now, she's sitting close to him and constantly touches his arm or elbow while saying something. I don't know why, but it's annoying watching her. Very much so. I feel myself start to get angry as I watch her. It makes no sense for my heart to be beating like this; none. It's none of my business and honestly, who cares what they do? But I'm starting to realize that I have something against this woman. I guess it’s safe to say that she had something against me, first. For the entirety of breakfast, Maximilian makes a point of not looking at me and I do the same, even though I can’t help but steal an occasional glance
AdaThe silence seems to want to engulf me.It’s almost too quiet. I have to look around to make sure that I’m in my own apartment. It feels like a foreign place. Or maybe it’s my mind that’s become so strange to me that I can’t make sense of the places I’m in every day. I close my eyes, squeeze them shut, and then open them again slowly, ignoring the throbbing behind them. Yes. This whole mess is giving me a headache and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m just so damn tired of always having to think. At this point, I wish I could just shut my thoughts and not have to think about Max Loxley or anyone else in their family. I’m tired. I lie on my couch. I haven’t had dinner yet and find it unlikely that I will. I’m just not hungry and anyway, I don’t have the energy to cook anything right now. I’m being haunted by the memories of this afternoon. How his grip felt. How his eyes pinned me to the spot. How my heart raced every time his face moved closer to mine. How triumphant I f
Maximilian Kelly leaves before dinner is even served, which honestly, I'm thankful for. I was surprised to see her here. I thought the discussion we had earlier would be enough to send her away forever, but it seems not, and I don't know how I feel about that.I'm cutting into my ribeye when Rebecca says my name. "Max."I look up at her. My expression is one of boredom, I'm sure. Judging by her tone, she wants to talk about a complicated matter. I'm sure it has to do with Kelly and what happened earlier. "What's going on with you? Could you tell me?""Rebecca," I begin, "I don't think that—""Kelly told me what happened," she whispers after looking around to ensure that nobody is around to hear her. "You know, between the two of you in your office."I suppress the urge to groan. Fuck. "I already had a conversation with her concerning this," I say, keeping my tone level. "I don't think there's anything left to say.""This isn't like you at all," she claims. "You're not one to brea
Ada"A direct order, is it?" I ask, tearing my arm from his grip. "And I suppose that makes you so much better than her?"He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, almost like he's calming himself down. When he looks back at me, his eyes are shooting daggers at me. "Do you take pleasure in being such a complicated person?""I'm not being complicated, I'm just pointing out a fact," I claim. "An order is an order. I'll get someone else to do it. As you wish, sir."I start to walk away from him, but he shocks me by grabbing my arm and forcing me to face him. A gasp leaves my lips in the process. He's doing this in broad daylight. Where anyone could see us and assume whatever they want. I tell him, "I have to remind you that anyone could be watching us, Mr. Loxley. Now's the right time for you to release me.""Do you think I care about anyone watching?" he asks in a low voice, his face only inches away from mine. "I pay them to mind their business. Whoever has a problem with what I do
AdaI haven’t seen him for the whole day. That’s how I refer to him now. As him. I didn’t have to serve breakfast because, luckily enough, nobody would be having any. Everyone left early. I have a feeling he did it to avoid me, but at the same time, I think I might be delusional because he approached me. He’s not trying to avoid me. I’m in his house, not the other way around. If he never wants to see me again, all he has to do is fire me and I’ll be out of his sight. I haven’t had a chance to look for any clues. Then again, I’m not really in the mood to. My concentration can’t falter, and right now, I’m too deep in my thoughts to get something so risky done. The day is nearly coming to an end but I swear it’s been the longest of my life. It’s been so tedious, too. I’ve just been cleaning and nothing else. At this rate, I don’t think I’ll have the encouragement to come back. I have twenty minutes until I have to leave when I’m called by Mrs. Danes. She says to me, “Miss Loxley is
MaximilianThe words I said to Naomi were more to me than to her, because I was right. I do have to forget that the kiss ever happened. I’ve gotten myself into serious trouble because of it. My desire for her has spiraled out of control to the point where I used someone dear to me to erase the thought of her from my mind, or rather, not the thought, but this curiosity of mine to know what she tastes like. What happened between Kelly and me should never have occurred. It was a mistake I think I’ll pay for for the rest of my life. I leave without having breakfast. This is for the best. Whenever she’s around, I can’t seem to think straight, so this is me cutting the problem from the root, since I don’t know how to fucking behave. I rarely drive to work with my head as full as it is. Usually, it’s easy for me to focus on what I’m going to do all day, but she hasn’t left my mind for a second. I couldn’t even tell if she was relieved by what I said, or disappointed. She’s never given me
Ada When I get back to my apartment, I'm shaking. Literally. Shaking. I close the door and when I try to lock it, I drop the keys multiple times. To be fair, I don't know how I drove myself here. I should've crashed the car. It's a miracle, it truly is. Because I'm a mess. I have been since he kissed me. I even came home in my uniform. That's how jumbled up my mind is. I didn't change. I just grabbed my clothes and my bag and came running. The truth is that I was afraid he'd follow me. But he didn't. Now that I'm home, in a place that's safe for me, it's easier for me to focus and think about what truly happened. The horrifying part is that I kissed him back. There, I've said it. I kissed him back. I should've pushed him away but for some reason, that didn't occur to me. I had this curiosity to kiss him back. To know what it would be like.And now I’m regretting that because it’s just about the craziest thing I’ve ever done, arguably the dumbest. I chew my thumb nonstop and
MaximilianI kiss her. I fucking kiss her. I think I grab her face and she stands up, both of us moving backward until her back hits the door of my office hard, making a sound that should scare me but doesn’t, our lips locked. I lose my mind for a moment. I’m overcome by this feverish sensation that races up and down my spine before it settles on my chest, burning bright and nearly suffocating me. Is this feeling desire? Lust? Need? Or a mixture of all three? Her hands are grabbing the lapels of my shirt, pulling me close as our mouths move together. My tongue darts out, settling on her lower lip. She parts her lips for me, allowing me entrance into her sweet mouth. My tongue finds hers and the two move like intimate friends. Like lovers. This is the first time I’ve ever kissed her but it doesn’t feel like it. It’s like my body knows her, and hers knows mine. The moment ends abruptly. She stills, becoming as rigid as a rock, and I break the kiss before taking a few steps away fr
AdaFor the next two days, things have been calm and on the low. I haven’t had any weird experience with Mr. Loxley. Except, of course, when his hand accidentally grazed mine while I was pouring him coffee this morning. It felt like I’d been zapped with electricity and when I looked at him, undoubtedly with an accusing look burning in my eyes, he seemed just as surprised as me. But whatever. That was a mild thing. Nothing to be concerned about. Damson still hasn’t called and I can’t help but wonder what’s wrong with him. Why won’t he talk to me? It’s so frustrating, to be honest. This day is almost ending. Tomorrow will be another day and things feel so stale. I won’t even mention how disappointed I was when I went through the photos I took and, you guessed it, there was absolutely nothing in them that would tie Reynold Loxley to my father’s death. It feels like I’m chasing after ghosts, to be honest. I feel so irritated with the whole thing. So frustrated, too. In my mind, this