Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle's brow furrowed in confusion, momentarily at a loss as to what exactly he was referring to.

She would be the first to admit that she could be a bit prickly and somber at times, but she would never ignore a call from her partner, especially not during a silent treatment between them. Such tactics only hastened the demise of a relationship.

She genuinely treasured the bond she shared with Max. She knew that their journey together had been no easy feat and that the road ahead would be fraught with obstacles. If she were to throw in the towel first, what kind of future could they possibly have? "Ms. Brielle, he tried calling you several times, I did too, but you just hung up. Your situation with the him really has me worried, because I want you two to work it out, not just cut off all communication the moment there's a disagreement," Patrick said, his frustration evident.

Brielle was speechless. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her missed calls.

There were no calls from either of them. Not a trace. Could someone have tampered with her phone?

That was impossible. During her time at Stellar Stage Entertainment, her phone had always been by her side, untouched by anyone else.

So what exactly was going on?

The confusion in her eyes was unmistakable, prompting Patrick to frown. "Ms. Brielle, is there a problem?"

"I didn't receive any calls from you guys."

Patrick had been by Max's side for years, effortless in his counter-surveillance skills. Hearing Brielle's response, he immediately grew suspicious. "Ms. Brielle, would you mind if I take a look at your phone? I'll have someone check it out." Brielle nodded and handed it over without hesitation.

Around the corner, Annie stood with her arms crossed, casually eavesdropping on their conversation.

A complicated look crossed her face before she let out a sigh. It seemed that remotely controlling Brielle's phone was off the table from now on.

Before Patrick could return, Annie swiftly made her way back to her desk and sent a message to Murray.

[Brielle's phone is being checked, and I can't control it anymore. Murray, I'm so sad. What do we do now?]

When Murray read the message, his heart melted. [Miss, with your smarts, I'm sure you'll think of something else.]

[What else is there? My brain's at its limit. How can those two reconcile just like that, without clearing up all those misunderstandings? It's so defeating. I'm in a foul mood.]

When Brielle approached, she found Annie quietly sitting at her desk, texting someone intently.

She didn't pry but instead entered Max's office.

Max was just shutting down his computer when he saw her. He reached for his suit jacket that was draped over a chair.

Brielle paused, surprised. Was he leaving work early today?

Max took her hand and hung it by his side. "We're not going home for dinner tonight."

"Should we call Wesley?"

"I've already told him."This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

Brielle was led out of the office, her wrist in his grasp, all the way to the private elevator.

Max leaving early was unprecedented. So everyone at the top floor watched in surprise, well aware that this topic was off-limits in office gossip.

Rumors had spread that the couple was living together and that Max was truly in love with Brielle.

The women in the office were a mix of envy and jealousy. How had Brielle managed to snag such good fortune?

Only Annie looked on with a complex expression, feeling an unpleasant twinge in her heart.

Brielle had thought Max might have some schmoozing to do, or maybe he'd take her to Tequila Sunset for drinks, but when the car stopped at Beaconsfield College, surprise flickered in her eyes.

"You-"

Why come to her alma mater?

Max leaned over to unbuckle her seatbelt. "Don't you want to come back for a visit?"

Brielle was at a loss for words, then slightly bitter.

When she had graduated top of her class, she thought she'd make it big in finance.

She was youthful, with nothing to lose. And because of her youth, she felt she could have everything.

Back then, even with the modest salary at Dorsey International, she was full of drive. Yet, she hadn't made a name for herself as her mentors had hoped and had never returned since.

"Beaconsfield College's centennial

celebration is in two days, and

Dorsey International, as its biggest sponsor, will be there. I won't be able to join you, so I want you to walk around with me first."

Although Dorsey International had always been a benefactor of Beaconsfield College, Max rarely visited, having spent his formative years on Wall Street and not in domestic academic institutions.