Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

“Brielle! Open up right now!” Anger and humiliation churned within, a tempest raging in his chest.

Brielle lounged on the couch, making no move toward the door, her arms instead wrapped around Max’s neck.

Max glanced down at her, easing her hands away, “Not going to answer the door?”

Brielle snorted with amusement, pointing first at him, then back to herself, “So that he can find out that the almighty Mr. Dorsey has graced us mere mortals with his presence to personally attend to an employee?”

“Wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

“Bang! Bang!”

The pounding on the door persisted, a clear sign that if the door wasn’t opened, the knocking would become a permanent fixture.

Cleverly, Brielle grabbed her phone and quickly powered it down. Outside, Spencer indeed began to call.

“Sorry, the number you have dialed is switched off.” Frustration nearly drove him to crush his phone, but then Lillian called. Spencer paused, irritation flickering in his eyes. In truth, the specific reason he had ended up in Lillian’s arms was now a blur. He only remembered drinking and feeling irritated by Brielle, unable to resist pouring out his grievances to Lillian.

His mind, muddled by booze, remembered only the softness of her embrace, and her whispering, “If it were me, I wouldn’t let you suffer like this.”

Indeed, being in his favor was a blessing, yet Brielle seemed clueless about treasuring it.

“Lillian, what’s up?” His tone was clipped, leaning casually against the door, devoid of his usual warmth.

Sizing up his mood, Lillian tread lightly, “Spencer, have you gone to see Bri?”

At the mention of Brielle, Spencer felt a blockage in his heart. He didn’t feel loved with her, but with Lillian, he felt everything. Lillian was understanding, considerate, and even after knowing he was unwilling to break off the engagement, she didn’t express her grievances. She remained gentle, not forcing fate, and throughout, he was the only man in her life. Compared to the fickle Brielle, Lillian was perfection.

Guilt pricked at Spencer, prompting a swift denial. “No, I’m at the Dorsey estate. Max needed to discuss some business.”

The apartment’s poor soundproofing meant his words were crystal clear to the pair inside.

Brielle’s eyebrow arched, her fingers idly twirling Max’s tie. “Uncle Max, you needed him for something?”

Max gently pressed her hand down, careful not to disturb her injured leg.

Outside, Spencer’s clumsy lies continued. “Just some work stuff. Max can be quite serious in private.”

Lillian’s heart raced. She had never had the chance to see Max’s private side or to gaze up close at that face, which must be a happiness in itself. She felt her mouth dry out, suspecting every woman probably dreamed of conquering him. Yet, here she was, without even a chance to speak to him. Maybe Spencer was her opportunity.

“Spencer, do you dine privately with Max? Does he know about Brielle’s situation?”

At the first question, Spencer almost responded, but the second question made him explode. “Why should he know about Brielle’s affairs? They hardly speak, maybe cross paths at work, but his world revolves around his job. When has he ever looked at a woman? Let alone one who’s engaged.”

Lillian exhaled in relief. Although she had intentionally leaked Brielle’s attempt to seduce Max to Emily, and she had edited the video, she was always unsettled about why they appeared together at the auction. It was her lingering concern. She feared losing control of the situation.

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Spencer’s response was the reassurance she needed. Indeed, Max had been devoted to his career for years, his only gossip involving with one Miss Barnes, and no other woman came close.

Brielle had merely taken advantage of her work position.

Lillian’s lips curved into a smile, her thoughts crystallizing. She longed to see Max, to speak softly to him. To lock gazes, even if only for a few seconds, would be enough to savor for a lifetime.