Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

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Chapter 550

‘ this isn’t your doing, I’m going to call Ms. Haywood to come back.”

Max remained silent, his gaze fixed on the string of black beads as if in a trance. The gift

he had given her with such gravity was casually tossed in the office drawer, forgotten eve

she walked away

His voice sunk, heavy with unspoken emotion. “Put it down, and leave.”

Sydney caught the flicker of emotion in Max’s stoic face, and her lips curved into a sly

smile.

“By the way, when Ms. Haywood left today, she had a few words for me. She was the one

who mentored me. She told me about Mr. Spencer becoming the new director, and that he

would like the outfit I’m wearing now. There’s been a lot of misunderstanding in the

department about me, and people think I’m intentionally copying Ms. Haywood. But I’m

not. I just wanted to catch Mr. Spencer’s eye. Ms. Haywood is even willing to help me out.

I’ll have to come up to the executive floor regularly. I’m not sure how you feel about Ms.

Haywood since she hit Mr. Spencer. I’m worried you might have some reservations about

me as well, so I wanted to explain.

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“Mr. Dorsey, I’ll leave you now.”

Her words were carefully crafted, leaving no room for doubt.

Max’s focus remained on the rosary, his brows knitted with aggravation. Today was

probably the worst day he’d had all year.

Once the office door closed behind her, Sydney took a deep breath. The triumphant grin

on her face said it all she had succeeded. She ran her fingers through her hair and headed

back to her department. Upon seeing the woman already waiting there, her smile faded,

replaced by a look of genuine worry. “Ms. Alivia.”

Alivia was seated in the director’s chair, her eyes flickering with disdain as Sydney

entered. “How did things go with the task I assigned you?”

Sydney loathed Alivia but was under her thumb.

“I repeated your instructions word for word, Ms. Alivia.”

Alivia nodded. “Good job. But I advise you not to get any funny ideas. You know I can

crush you as easily as stepping on an ant.”

Michael had already informed her that Brielle had been transferred to another company

with chaotic management that would divide her attention. And if Brielle succeeded, that

company would become part of Alivia’s wedding gift. The thought of using Brielle’s hard

work as a wedding gift was indeed satisfying to Alivia.

Michael had hinted it was a good time for some subtle sabotage.

The humiliating memory of that night in the private room was clear in her mind; she

couldn’t

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afford another rash mistake. She needed to play it slow and steady.

Last night, she had sought out Spencer, convincing him to sneak into Brielle’s home at

Pearl Estate to steal the rosary, but for some reason, Spencer seemed utterly defeated, a

shell of

his former self.

Alivia had to expend a lot of energy to persuade him, and his current state was repulsive

to her. Spencer reeked of smoke and alcohol. It was like he’d crawled out of a dumpster.

His appearance was unkempt, his eyes murky, mumbling, “She won’t come back, never

will. Nothing matters anymore.”

As a former ally, Alivia knew exactly what this meant. Spencer had lost his will to fight,

and had given up any hope of winning Brielle back – a total waste, just as he had always

been.

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–

Disgust flashed in Alivia’s eyes, but this ‘waste‘ had done one useful thing he had

managed to steal Brielle’s rosary.

Just as Michael had said, how strong could their love possibly be? The seeds of doubt were

sown, and neither was the type to clarify misunderstandings. Over time, this would lead to

what psychologists call the ‘broken windows theory. If one window broke and no one fixed

it, soon enough, other windows would inexplicably shatter. One misunderstanding would.

lead to another, and before you know it, when all windows would break, could they

withstand the cold winds that blow through?

Brielle was someone who, when in love, was bold and unabashed, and when she hated,

she was decisive and ruthless, unwilling to suffer fools gladly. On the other hand, Max was

suffer fools gl accustomed to action rather than explanation.

The smirk in Alivia’s eyes deepened. She had to let Max find out that Brielle didn’t value

the rosary as he did. His treasure was trivial to her.

There would be many more such instances to come, and it remained to be seen how much

Max could endure.

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Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

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