Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love novel Chapter 169

The driver behind must've been rubbernecking, 'cause he sure didn't see it coming and—BAM!—rear-ended the Bentley's bumper.

"Man, what's with your driving? Slamming on the brakes like that, even a guy with two brains wouldn't have caught on in time," the driver behind yelled, sticking his head out. "Think you're hot stuff 'cause you're in a Bentley, huh?"

Maxwell didn't give him the time of day and bolted towards the crowd.

The other driver whipped out his phone to take pictures. "Great, not only do you slam the brakes, but you're also wearing flip-flops."

Damn, that's a Bentley, and with a rear-end crash, it's all on him. Insurance won't cover squat. Gotta find someone else to pin this on!

Maxwell pushed through the crowd to the very front. The lake was calm, not a person or even a shadow in sight.

He frowned and asked a lady nearby, "Where's the person? Did you pull them out?"

"It's freezing, who'd dare jump in? The poor soul's probably turned to ice—didn't struggle much before going under. Oh dear," the lady clutched her chest. "Such a sin. A young girl, what could've been so bad to make her want to end it all?"

Maxwell shed his jacket. "Where'd they go under?"

"Right there, look, it's still bubbling!"

The lady's accent was thick, and Maxwell barely understood her, but he dived in where she pointed without hesitation...

The icy water hit him like a truckload of ice cubes, enveloping him in an instant. Opening his eyes, Maxwell started swimming down.

Visibility was trash in the lake, water so cold and dirty it stung his eyes.

He blinked hard a couple of times and dove deeper, finally spotting a blurry figure, unconscious, limbs limp, and long hair waving gently with the water like seaweed.

Maxwell was a tough cookie, always kept fit, but winter swimming's not just about strength; it's about not freezing your butt off—that takes year-round training to get used to.

But winter swimming? Hell, the guy hadn’t even been wild swimming—always in some chlorinated pool, heated indoors in the winter, no less.

Teeth clenched, he grabbed the limp wrist and pulled upwards. Going down was easy, but swimming back up felt like miles away from the light above, his arms almost giving out before his head broke the surface.

"Splash!"

A lifesaver ring was thrown his way.

Grabbing it, Maxwell emerged from the water, one hand clinging to the ring, the other to the jumper's wrist.

"They're up! Pull them in, quick!"

Everyone on the shore was buzzing with excitement!

The icy water, plus the biting wind, left Maxwell numb all over. His vision and thoughts blurred as he looked toward the crowd.

Why else would he see Rosemary there?

Her hand, touching his arm, felt like she was holding ice, making her involuntarily recoil.

Rosemary quickly peeled off his drenched shirt, wiped him down with tissues from a bystander, and slipped the dry jacket onto him.

Then, her gaze fell on his pants.

Maxwell, with a half-smirk, teased, "That look... you want to strip my pants or see me streak in front of all these people?"

Rosemary rolled her eyes, "Just deal with it for now; the ambulance should be here soon."

She shouldn't have come to gawk; who'd have thought it'd turn out like this.

Someone nearby offered a pair of pants, "Got extra pants here, change the outer layer at least. You can make do with the wet undies, don't want to freeze your legs off."

As Rosemary was about to decline, Maxwell took them gratefully, "Thanks, bro."

But as soon as he got them, they slipped from his numb fingers to the ground. He looked apologetic, "Sorry, fingers are frozen stiff."

The kind stranger waved it off, while Rosemary just watched him fumble.

When Maxwell looked her way, she didn't mince words, "Change your own pants."

Maxwell shamelessly kept at it, "I'm beat."