Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle dismissed the barrage of notifications on her phone with a flick of her thumb, “Patrick, could you stop at the next intersection, please?” Her tone was indifferent, laced with a weariness that seemed to seep into the bir around her.

Through the rearview mirror, Patrick tried to glean some sort of cue from Max’s expression, a sign of what he might be thinking, but his face was impassive. As they reached the crossroads, he obeyed the request and brought the car to a smooth halt.

Brielle clutched the box a little tighter, a flicker of disappointment crossing her mind. She had half- expected Max to ask her to stay, but he remained seated, his demeanor as detached as a statue devoid of emotion.

“Uncle Max, not even a goodbye?” she teased, resting against the window, her long hair falling around her face, making it seem even smaller. Her eyes caught the reflection of the vibrant streetlights, beautiful and clear. She was just joking, and before waiting for a response, she walked across the pedestrian walkway, carrying her box.

Max watched her in silence, his gaze lingering long after she’d faded from view.

She was like a wounded animal, licking its injuries alone, trying to bristle with soft spines to protect the last remnants of its.dignity amidst the turmoil.

Brielle walked with her back straight, only slowing her pace when she was out of the reach of that penetrating gaze.

Her apartment was close by. The chill of the evening breeze was just what she needed. Hope only bred greater disappointment.

The ringtone of her phone cut through her thoughts. It was Spencer calling this time. Anxious about not receiving an apology from her, his impatience was palpable.

Brielle snorted softly and promptly blocked his number. © NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

Soon after, Lillian’s call came through. Probably Spencer again. Those two were inseparable. Another number blocked.

Once inside her apartment, she powered on her computer to browse job listings but noticed a new email in her inbox instead, an offer letter for the position of Director of Mergers and Acquisitions at Dorsey International. The sender was Max.

Her fingers trembled slightly, and her eyes widened in disbelief as she read and reread the

message.

Was she being offered Spencer’s job?

She replied with a simple question mark. There was a hint of trepidation, fearing she might be misreading his intentions.

16.05

Max probably hadn’t arrived at the Premier Palace yet. He sent it from the car? Imagining him with a stern face, typing each word of this email. Brielle’s lips curved up, and she quickly saw the reply.

–[Reward.]

A terse response, yet it oddly warmed her heart.

-[Uncle Max, is this you playing favorites?]

The thought left her feeling elated, as if the world was celebrating with fireworks. She had left feeling suffocated, and now she had an opportunity to return and turn the tables. She wasn’t about to let it slip by.

The impending troubles with the Dorsey and Haywood families could wait. For now, the thrill of the moment was what mattered.

Expecting no further replies, she was surprised to receive another email, containing just one word- [Yeah.]

A wave of emotion washed over Brielle. She had never received any gifts from Spencer during their long acquaintance, and in her thirteen years with the Haywood family, all she had to show was this modest apartment. Even the car she drove was bought with her own salary.

The comparison made the disappointment more glaring. Spencer was nothing, not even worth a dime.

[Rest assured, Uncle Max, I am ready to devote myself entirely to the cause.]

She sent the message with a sense of mischief, enjoying this odd game they played. Max seemed to have a peculiar fondness for it.

After sending the email, she closed the job search tab and ordered some late-night comfort food, including a few bottles of wine.

Fresh out of the shower, the doorbell rang.

Assuming it was the delivery person, she wrapped a towel around her hair and opened the door. The man on the doorstep glanced at her attire, his anger giving way to surprise.

Brielle stepped back, pulling her robe tighter, the collar barely hiding the marks on her neck.

Spencer? What was he doing here?

His gaze lingered on the outline of her body beneath the flimsy nightgown; and he frowned in disapproval. “Dressed like that to answer the door? Brielle, you’ve grown bold.” He was incensed that she had the audacity to block him, and moreover, Lucinda had mentioned she was thinking of resigning.

“As if resigning is some sort of threat, he sneered, his eyes finally catching the marks on

her neck

“What’s this?” Spencer wasn’t a three year old child, and he felt his anger surging “Brielle, you’d better explain yourself!!

He’d left similar marks on Lillian more times than he could count, but seeing them on

Brielle incensed him

Brielle no longer bothered to cover up, her arms crossed defiantly. If there’s nothing else. I’d appreciate it if you left.

Spencer shoved past her, his anger palpable as he frantically searched the apartment, checking behind curtains and furniture. It was almost comical.

Just then, the food delivery arrived. Brielle popped open a bottle of wine and began to eat in the living room.

Unable to find anyone, Spencer’s fury seemed ready to explode. “Don’t forget our engagement! Brielle, you’re just like Lillian said, a shameless flirt!”

She chuckled lightly, swirling the wine in her bottle, “And Lillian teaches you about shame while in your bed?”

His body tensed under her gaze, and he clenched his teeth. “Isn’t it normal for men to play around? But when a woman does it, it’s called promiscuity. You’re supposed to be a lady of the Haywood family. If the media gets a hold of this, do you realize the consequences?”