Olivia’s POV
My question about Olivia seed to have a strange calming effect on Maxwell. The fight went out of him like air from a punctured balloon, and he slowly settled back into the hospital bed, though his jaw remained tightly clenched. But instead of the explosion I’d expected, he simply turned his face away from and stared at the wall with cold, distant eyes.
The silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable. I pulled my chair closer to his bedside, unsure what to say after dropping such a bombshell. The steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room.
After what felt like an eternity, Maxwell mumbled without looking at , "You don’t have to stay."
"I want to," I said softly. "You’re sick, and..."
"Just leave, Oliver." His voice was flat and emotionless. "Go to the conference. That’s what I brought you here for, isn’t it? To take notes. So go handle my business. I don’t want you here."
I opened my mouth to argue, to tell him that his health was more important than any conference, but the look in his eyes when he finally turned toward made the words die in my throat. There was sothing broken there, sothing raw and painful that my questions about Olivia had clearly reopened.
"Sir, I really think..."
"Go." The single word was said with such finality that I knew there was no point in arguing further.
Reluctantly, I gathered my things and headed for the door. "I’ll check on you later," I said, but Maxwell had already turned back toward the wall.
The conference hall was buzzing with energy when I arrived, but I felt completely disconnected from everything happening around . I found a seat toward the back and pulled out my notebook, trying to focus on the speaker’s presentation. But my mind kept drifting back to Maxwell’s fevered confessions and then his firm denial.
Why was he denying it though? And most importantly, who was this unfortunate woman? I couldn’t help but feel for her.
I took notes, writing down key points and statistics that Maxwell would want to review later, assuming he was even speaking to by then. The lecture was actually quite informative, but I found myself having to reread my own notes multiple tis to make sure I’d captured everything correctly.
As the lecture concluded and attendees began filtering out for the coffee break, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder.
"Oliver Hopton, isn’t it?"
I turned to see Judge Lance standing behind , her face lit up with a warm smile.
"Judge Lance," I said, standing quickly and extending my hand. "It’s a pleasure to see you again."
"Oh, please, call Cassandra when we’re not in a professional setting," she said, clasping my hand warmly. "I was hoping to catch up with my nephew today. Where is that stubborn boy? Don’t tell he’s skipping lectures to conduct business etings in his hotel room."
My stomach dropped. This was exactly the conversation I’d been dreading. "Actually, Your Honor - I an, Cassandra - Maxwell is in the hospital."
The smile vanished from her face instantly, replaced by a look of alarm. "What? What do you an he’s in the hospital? What happened? Is he hurt?"
"He’s okay," I said quickly, raising my hands to calm her down. "He has pneumonia. High fever this morning, but the doctors say he’s stable now."
"Pneumonia?" Cassandra’s voice rose, causing nearby conference attendees to turn and stare. "My nephew has pneumonia and nobody thought to call ? Which hospital? We need to go right now!"
Before I could respond, she was already pulling out her phone and dialing. I watched in growing horror as she paced back and forth, her voice becoming more agitated with each word.
"Dorathy? It’s Cassandra. Maxwell is in the hospital... Yes, in Chicago... Pneumonia... No, I just found out from his assistant... Which hospital, Oliver?"
"Saint Paul’s Hospital," I said weakly.
"Saint Paul’s Hospital," she repeated into the phone. "You need to get here imdiately... Yes, bring Damien... I don’t care if he’s in a eting, this is his brother we’re talking about!"
She paused, listening to whatever Maxwell’s mother was saying on the other end.
"The whole family needs to be there for Maxwell. This is exactly the kind of thing that happens when he pushes himself too hard and won’t let anyone take care of him..."
I cleared my throat nervously. "Um, Cassandra? Maybe we should consider that Maxwell might prefer..."
She held up a finger, still deep in conversation with her sister. "I’ll et you at the hospital... Yes, I’m leaving the conference right now... Tell Damien to hurry."
As she finally hung up, I tried one more ti. "Are you sure it’s a good idea for the entire family to co to the hospital? I an, Maxwell is stable now, and he seed to want so quiet ti to recover..."
Cassandra gave a look that could have withered flowers. "Oliver, dear, Maxwell is a stubborn, prideful man who would probably try to perform surgery on himself rather than admit he needs help. The family will be there whether he likes it or not."
We imdiately left for the hospital, and I found myself sitting next to Cassandra, while she continuously asked questions about Maxwells health. She kept muttering under her breath about how Maxwell never took care of himself properly and how this was bound to happen eventually. I willed myself to remain calm, while ntally preparing myself for Maxwell’s reaction when he saw his entire family arriving at his bedside.
When we got to the hospital, Cassandra imdiately hurried up to his room, with leading in front. She went in, and gasped loudly on seeing him.
"Oh, Maxwell, sweetheart, look at you!" she exclaid, rushing to his bedside. "You look absolutely terrible! Why didn’t you call us? We’re your family, darling, we should have been the first to know!"
Maxwell, who had been resting peacefully when we arrived, now looked like he wanted to disappear into the hospital mattress. "Aunt Cassandra, I’m fine. Really. It’s just a little pneumonia."
"Just a little pneumonia?" she repeated, incredulous. "Maxwell, you had a fever of 104 degrees! Oliver told everything in the car - you were delirious, completely unconscious! You could have died!"
"I wasn’t going to die from pneumonia," Maxwell said through gritted teeth, shooting a look that could have lted steel.
"Don’t you take that tone with , young man," Cassandra scolded. "You’re lucky Oliver was there to find you and get you help. I hate to think what would have happened if you’d been alone."
Maxwell’s jaw tightened further, but he didn’t respond.
"Now, I’m going to go find a nice hotel and see if I can make you sothing decent to eat," Cassandra announced. "Hospital food is absolutely dreadful, and you need proper nutrition to fight off this infection."
"Aunt Cassandra, you don’t need to..."
"Nonsense! I’ll be back in a little while with so proper soup. Don’t you dare try to discharge yourself while I’m gone!"
The mont she left the room, Maxwell turned those cold, furious eyes on .
"Why," he said, his voice dangerously quiet, "did you have to announce to the whole world that I was in the hospital?"
"I didn’t announce it to anyone," I protested. "Your aunt asked where you were, and I told her the truth. I couldn’t exactly lie to a federal judge."
"You could have said I was handling business elsewhere. You could have said I was taking etings. You could have said anything other than broadcasting my personal dical information to my family."
"Sir, I was just trying to..."
Maxwell waved away with a dismissive gesture. "I don’t want to hear it, Oliver. I told you I wanted to be alone, and instead of respecting that, you’ve managed to turn my hospital room into a family reunion. You know fully well that my family will arrive here right? Now go. I want you to leave. Now!"
I stood there for a mont, torn between wanting to defend myself and knowing that arguing would only make things worse.
Finally, I turned and headed for the door, feeling like I’d sohow managed to turn a simple dical ergency into a complete disaster.
Hours later, I was still sitting in the hospital waiting room - wondering if I should just go check up on him and damn the consequences - when the elevator doors opened and a small parade of people erged.
Judge Cassandra appeared first, carrying what looked like enough food to feed a small army. Behind her was another woman who could only be Maxwell’s mother - she had the sa aristocratic bone structure and piercing eyes, though hers were currently filled with concern and worry. This had to be Dorathy Wellington.
Following behind them was Damien. And directly behind him was Kira.
My heart nearly stopped. What was Kira doing here?
Fuck! This was a total ss.
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