POV: Maxwell
Two years.
Seven hundred and thirty days. Seventeen thousand hours since I stood on the freezing tarmac at JFK and watched the only woman I ever loved fly away.
I haven’t lived a single day since. I had simply operated.
I sat at the head of the glass table in the Jordan Industries boardroom. It was 3:00 AM on a Friday. The entire floor was pitch black, except for the LED lights illuminating the documents spread out in front of me. The glass reflected my face back- hollow eyes, five o'clock shadow that never quite got shaved off, a jaw locked tight enough to crack teeth. I didn’t recognize the man staring back. I haven’t in a long time.
In the last two years, I had crushed three of our biggest competitors, liquidated their assets, and doubled Jordan Industries’ net wor
