Intro to Maximus' POV

Snippets from Maximus' POV the night he blackmails Roth.

He stared down the security guard who offered his arm until the man lowered it and stepped aside. He descended the steps leading to the runway on his own. It took longer, but he wasn’t an invalid yet. While he could, he’d move under his own steam, even if it took three times as long. Soon, he may need a cane. Hell, he may even need a fucking wheelchair, but not yet. His body was deteriorating, while his mind was sharper than it had ever been. Whoever spouted that crap about aging gracefully should be shot in the face. Being old and sick was humiliating. He had never been so frustrated in his life. Realizing that the things he used to do with no effort now took all the energy he had was infuriating. 

He had so little time left. There was an invisible clock ticking. Always ticking. He heard it in his sleep, a constant reminder that he still had so much to do. But tonight, he was going to cross off a task he’d been waiting to do for three years. One side of his mouth curved into a smug smile. The man at the bottom of the steps blinked, but wisely didn’t comment. Maximus ducked into the car, which was toasty warm, and was pleased when the driver floored it. He didn’t have time to waste. He planned to be in London just long enough to blackmail a man and be back home before sunrise.  

He’d been waiting for this moment for three years. That was an eternity for him. Patience wasn’t something he was well-versed in. He was Maximus Carlsbad Hennessy. Why the fuck would he need to wait for anything? The world had been presented to him on a gold platter. He snatched it with both hands and bent it to his iron will. 

But in this instance, he had been forced to wait. So, he sat back and bided his time. Months passed, and then years. It shouldn’t have taken this long. He read the surveillance reports and twiddled his thumbs when everything in him demanded he take action. He couldn’t resist throwing stones and when that didn’t give him the results he wanted, he switched to grenades, and then dynamite. Still, he waited. That gnawed at him. It gnawed at him that his daughter couldn’t see the writing on the wall, and it gave him ulcers that the man who married her wouldn’t give up the charade. 

But that was all over. Jasmine came home and wanted to be rid of him. She even agreed never to see the fucker again, which played right into his hands. He was going to bury James Roth once and for all. 

**This is a raw draft of Roth’s book. Please do not share or distribute.

Maximus gets a whole chapter in Roth's book which I think explains a lot about his character and mindset. I had to write this scene because it's referenced a lot at the beginning of Bitter Confessions. I had a blast writing from his POV. I originally started from Roth's POV before realizing it would be better to show it from Maximus and then switch to Roth after the fact.