Maxwell arrived at the estate just before noon.
Damian knew he was there before Charles announced it.
"Mr. Maxwell is here to see you, sir," Charles said when Damian stepped out of his study.
"Send him in."
Maxwell entered moments later, his expression professional as ever, though his eyes held the familiar sharpness of a man who never came without purpose. He removed his jacket as he stepped inside, glancing briefly around the study before his gaze settled on Damian.
"You got the invitation," Maxwell said, not bothering with pleasantries.
Damian leaned back slightly against the edge of his desk. "I did."
Maxwell exhaled through his nose. "I figured."
He took a seat without being offered one, resting his forearms on his thighs. "Vance doesn't do anything without intent. Especially not something this… public."
"A party," Damian said evenly, "is the easiest way to hide intent."
Maxwell's mouth twitched. "That answers my next question then."
