Maxwell's House Of Books นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Maxwell’s POV Charles’s office always smelled faintly of old leather and burnt coffee. The blinds were half drawn, cutting strips of weak daylight across the mess of case files that never seemed to leave his desk. He was leaning back in his chair when I walked in, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened like a man who hadn’t left this room in three days. “Maxwell,” he greeted, straightening slightly. “You’re early.” I ignored the pleasantry and sat opposite him, clasping my hands. “Tell me you have something.”

~FIORELLA~ Finding Mr. Maxwell's house takes longer than expected. It's tucked away in one of the more exclusive parts of the city, behind a tall stone wall and enormous iron gates. When the gates open, I stare through the window. The property is breathtaking. The house itself looks more like a historic estate than an ordinary residence. Warm lights glow through the windows. A long driveway leads toward the entrance. Lucas whistles softly. "This is a house?"

Max was supposed to stay at Celine’s house ever since Clara instructed him to, but her dad was not agreeable. So each. night, he would pretend to leave and stay at the hotel just so he could camp outside in his car to guard Celine. They had guards littered everywhere, but Max did not want to leave Celine’s safety in someone else’s hands. He trusted no one. In his mind, everyone can be bought, coerced, or convinced to abandon his post with the right amount of money and conviction.

Old receipts. Nothing. I sat back on my heels on the study floor. Surrounded by the small disorder of my own desperate searching. Nothing. No folder. No findings. No record of whatever Alex had uncovered about my husband and my marriage and the specific architecture of the cage I had been living in. Maxwell had taken it all. Every page. Every answer. Gone. Like him. Like everything he had touched in this house — removed so cleanly it might never have existed. I sat on the study floor and felt something shift inside me.

But as i was soon to learn it was my era and time, men ruled the worlds and as females, it was expected of us to follow dutifully behind them, only trying, but subtly and discreetly, to coin our own paths. 'Mr Maxwell 's father built the very house we are headed to. And though it was not his by birth, Mr Maxwell, by defect, received the manor, title and other godly goods when is brother died in the war. So Mr Maxwell refurbish the building and set up another in Cornwall.

She barely stopped herself from saying that Corinne would not be able to pay for the damage. "Understood. I'll make sure to be careful with them." Corinne nodded, ignored Anya's attitude, and walked over to peruse some of the books on the big bookshelf. She picked one at random and flipped through it. She then placed it back and took a different book. The books were all exceptionally well-written, rather than vapid literature that was bought to fill the shelves and make one seem well-read. Maxwell seemed to love reading a lot, much like many historical figures who were erudite but had rather despicable characters.

I shouted at Maxwell, and he laughed while carrying our baggage. We will spend two weeks here, and we’ve listed a lot of activities. I am thrilled to start our vacation. Maxwell’s family rest house is a two-story all-white-themed wooden house. It has four rooms with showers, a kitchen and a living room. It has a porch facing the sea. “This house looks so homey and warm,” I commented while Maxwell was touring me around. “This is mom’s favorite place. This is your room.” He said before opening a room just across from his.

The compound was very large, and the house which was a nice looking bungalow was seated in the middle. Everywhere was chaotic with the maids and guards running helter skelter, but the chaos was normal and familiar. I grew up with this place as a second home, although our familial relationship is not exposed to the public, Elder Magnus is Uncle Magnus to me, and we have the same ambition. Maxwell was finally directed to a spot reserved for the Alpha probably, and he alighted immediately after parking, while I deliberately took my sweet time to open the door and step out. He already sees me a bitch anyway so why not derive fun acting like one.

"Besides, don't you have to work or something?." Maxwell had other jobs, from what Breanna could gather, his family was rich and they had a big construction company. He claimed to have more on his plate these year because the company was partnering with an NGO in Africa to build shelters and schools for displaced people and children with psychological deformities. So aside from lecturing at Charleston, he was an undercover CEO, as she liked to say. "Not till one in the afternoon." He countered. "Still." "You're not touching anything, if I have to carry you back to bed, I will." He said with a straight face.

Because of the uneven top and bottom, the hem of the shirt was pulled up and fell up and down, and Xianshan was dewy again. Alice fastened his buttons and turned around, standing there in a loss, vowing: "Don't get me wrong, I didn't mean it!" The blushing was about to hide in the creak. Maxwell glanced at her again without a word of silence, and sat down on the one—seat sofa with a book in his hand and looked quietly as if she were a little transparent. There was no noise in the room, only Maxwell's rustling sound of turning the pages of the book. He also read books very regularly, turning pages in about a minute.