Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Max had pondered the question before, back when his response would’ve been a no–brainer, al surefire “Yes.” But now, as he wrestled with the inquiry, a different face flickered through his mind. He frowned in confusion. It had been a while since he’d been out here, and Brielle hadn’t even made a phone call or sent a message. And him? He’d been so tangled up in a web of endless tasks that he realized it’d been days since they last connected.

“Alivia, I’ve been clear from the start. It I fall for someone, I won’t marry you. I told you not to

wait for me.”

He’d turned her down before, but if everyone thought Alivia had been waiting for him all these years, it would pressure the Dorsey family. It would paint him as a promise–breaker, when he’d never made any promises.

Relief washed over Alivia. She always knew Max didn’t quite grasp the concept of liking. someone. If he was saying this, he clearly wasn’t interested in anyone at the moment. “I get it. Max. Don’t worry. I won’t push you.” Exclusive content from NôvelDrama.Org.

Max raised a hand to his temple, rubbing wearily. Even after downing a coffee, exhaustion clung to him. He shuffled toward the break room, expecting Alivia to take her leave. But she didn’t. Instead, she settled into a seat inside.

Max only shed his blazer before succumbing to sleep quickly. When he sensed someone nearing, his eyes snapped open, his body on high alert.

Alivia stood just a step away, her plan to snap a sneaky selfie with him while he slept now thwarted. She pointed awkwardly at the blanket. “I didn’t want you catching a cold.”

Max’s expression was icy. “Get out.”

Alivia’s lips pressed together in silent frustration as she exited the room.

Max hated being disturbed while resting. Once the door closed, he instinctively reached out beside him, only to embrace emptiness. He paused, staring at the hollow space in his arms.

After a long hesitation, he fought off the urge to sleep and pulled out his phone; sending Brielle a message. [?]

When Brielle received the message, it was already late at night, and her phone was on mute, so she naturally didn’t reply.

Max went from sending one question mark to two. [??]

And finally, three. [???]

Half an hour spaced each message, and none received a response.

Frustration now fully eclipsed his drowsiness, proving more effective than the strongest espresso. He rose, returning to his desk to tackle the paperwork, his irritation mounting.

14:26

Unbeknownst to Brielle, her phone had been buzzing silently in the dead of night. When she finally checked it upon waking. Max’s messages were hours old. She frowned. What did the question marks mean?

After freshening up, she contemplated a reply but was interrupted by a call from the office, “Ms. Haywood, we have a meeting with some senior executives this noon regarding the bidding matter. The

time is at eleven o’clock.”

“Alright, I’m on my way.”

Work always had a way of narrowing Brielle’s focus, so she left the message unanswered.

After arriving at the company and making the necessary preparations, she called two people from the mergers and acquisitions department and went together to the building where the bidding was about to take place.

The bidding was for a new automotive project by Heavy Motors, seeking a contractor. Dorsey International was the first on their invite list, but given the company’s vast empire, Heavy. Motors feared their project might not get the attention it deserved. So, they invited others to elevate the project’s profile.

As Brielle and her team arrived at the building, she immediately spotted Robert and Connor. Connor’s eyes lit up, seemingly unconcerned by the lurking reporters as he approached, belly leading the way.

“Bri, your dad and I were just talking about you. I didn’t expect Dorsey International to send you for the bidding. Seems like you’re making waves over there,” he said, his disgusting gaze fixating on Brielle as if he wished he could whisk her away right then and there.