POV : Fiona
The air in the grand ballroom suddenly felt very thin.
Maxwell was moving toward me. He completely ignored the politicians and wealthy businessmen standing in his way. He bumped shoulders with a French diplomat, he did not even apologize, and kept his eyes locked entirely on my face.
He looked desperate. He looked like a dying man who had just found water in the desert.
My assistant, Chloe, stepped slightly closer to me, noticing the wild look in his eyes. "Ambassador? Do you know this man? Should I call security?"
"No, Chloe," I said smoothly, my voice perfectly calm. "I know him. It's fine."
Maxwell stopped just three feet away from me. Up close, the changes in him were even more obvious. His tie was slightly crooked, and he looked incredibly tired.
For a long mome
