That gaze... Maxim was familiar with it. It was just that a long time had passed and her looks were too unimportant for him to remember.
He could never get tired of looking at Diana's face despite remembering every detail about her and he could talk to her for hours on even the most frustrating topics like her strange fictional books. Yet with other women, one look drained his energy and one sentence strained his throat.
Probably, it was another unhealthy obsession of his.
Maybe he was sick. Diana was a plague.
His obsession with her had stretched to a point that had him wondering what sanity he was left with.
Daisy was not Diana. Why would he care to bother with how some other woman looked?
But at this point, he was having second thoughts about having such a mentality.
Daisy was not some other woman. She was Diana's damned sister whom he mistook as some lecher who had designs on his girl! Damn it!!
