Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

“There’s a coffee station down the hall. I’ll have someone brew a fresh pot and bring it over. Please, have a seat.”

Catherine had thought that after the words she’d exchanged with Patrick, at the very least, he’d owe her some sort of explanation out of sheer professional courtesy on account of Kingston Enterprises. But Patrick had artfully dodged the issue, and he did so by bringing up such a mundane matter. If she were to press on, she’d seem uncouth.

“No trouble, Patrick. I can grab a cup myself,” she replied, her tone veiling her irritation.

She turned to head towards the coffee station but stopped in her tracks when she saw the elevator doors slide open, and Brielle step out, leaning heavily on her crutch.

Didn’t Brielle just leave to catch a cab? Why the sudden return? The sight knotted Catherine’s brow further. Encountering Brielle again felt like a bad omen.

By chance, the room where the contract was to be signed, and Brielle’s office was on the same floor. Brielle hadn’t expected to see Catherine there, and seeing her now twisted Brielle’s features in displeasure.

Brielle had only returned because a colleague had called her about some crucial documents in her office. She had the keys and needed to pass them documents on to someone in her department.

Pretending not to notice Catherine, Brielle aimed for her office door. Catherine, however, was not about to let her slip away unnoticed. “Well, if it isn’t Ms. Haywood,” she called out

mockingly.

Brielle, irked but masking it with a smile, responded, “Surely you haven’t forgotten our run–in just moments ago?”

Catherine’s face stiffened, and her earlier resolve to heed Bradley’s advice was forgotten. She wanted to close the distance between her and Brielle but hesitated. She remembered the crutch in Brielle’s hand and did not want to be humiliated like before. So she held back.

“Ms. Haywood, we’re here to sign a contract with Dorsey International. By all accounts, we’re guests of your company. Shouldn’t you, as a representative of Dorsey International, fetch me a coffee?” Catherine stated, looking expectantly at Patrick. “Don’t you agree, Patrick?”

Patrick grimaced. He wouldn’t dare ask Brielle to pour coffee. Rushing to smooth things over. he offered, “Ms. Haywood isn’t in the position to do so, but if you need it, I’ll get it for you.”

Catherine felt out of her depth. Although Patrick seemed merely an assistant, his longstanding rapport with Max suggested otherwise. Many of Max’s decisions passed through Patrick influence not unlike that of a royal confidant. Who would dare cross him?

As Catherine stewed in her indignation, a cold, detached voice cut through the tension. “The executive meeting is about to commence.”

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Patrick froze, turning to see Max standing in the exclusive elevator, hand on the open button. and his gaze icy as it swept the scene.

Patrick instinctively looked to Brielle, who stood rooted to the spot, eyes locked on Max.

Max’s gaze brushed over Brielle without a pause, as if nothing could stir the depths of his eyes, cold and fathomless. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Brielle recalled a time when she and Spencer had crossed paths with Max. She recognized that same impassive scrutiny.

With the elevator doors about to close, Brielle hurriedly handed the keys to Patrick. “Please, pass these on for me.”

Before Patrick could respond, Brielle made her way to the exclusive elevator. It was a struggle with her crutch, but she attempted to step inside. The doors were nearly shut when she reached out, and her fingers fell short.

Then, from within, a long, slender hand reached out, halting the closing doors.

Max stood there, his presence chilling the air around them.