Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Faith’s tone was icy, her words dripping with disdain as though Brielle was beneath her notice. Brielle knew that if she didn’t take action, the next call would be to the Haywoods, and then her parents would be on the line, lecturing her on her lack of charm and tact.

She was tired of being a puppet on strings. After hanging up, she texted Faith the address of the suburban mansion, Spencer’s little love nest. If Faith cared to dig, she would discover her son’s mistress.

Brielle also wondered if Faith already knew about Spencer and Lillian’s affair, which would explain her increasingly imperious attitude. Not only did Faith expect her to play the dutiful daughter-in-law within the Dorsey clan, but she also expected her to handle Spencer’s business affairs. Talk about making the most of her assets.

When Brielle arrived at Dorsey Tower and pushed open the office door, she found the entire floor eerily silent.

Everyone sat up straight, casting anxious glances toward the elevators. Whispers echoed through the cubicles.

“All the execs got called up for a meeting. Word is Mr. Dorsey’s not staying abroad this time.”

“The Wall Street Journal had a feature on him just the other day-Harvard wunderkind.”

“Looks like a shake-up at Dorsey International.”

At her desk, Brielle thought of the man who had left her bed that morning, now presiding over the top floor, and the corner of her mouth twitched with amusement.

He was sexy in bed, and just as much so in a suit and tie. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

She had barely sat down when a tap on her shoulder made her turn. “Why’s the director not here? If he skips the exec meeting, our department’s going to be in the crosshairs, right?”

That was her coworker Lucinda, the only one who knew about her and Spencer.

Brielle clipped on her badge, “I don’t know.”

A hint of surprise appeared in Lucinda’s eyes, followed by a deeply hidden disdain. “Isn’t he your fiancé? Really? With your looks, you can’t even keep a man?”

Beauty was an ace up her sleeve, but it wasn’t everything.

Brielle graduated from the top university in the country, Beaconsfield College. However, in a company like Dorsey International, you could randomly throw a brick, and it would hit a high-achieving graduate from an Ivy League school. However, not everyone had her stunning looks.

“Brielle, I saw the director with another woman at the mall last week. Don’t tell me you got two-timed?” Lucinda’s pity hinted at the harsh reality of marrying into wealth.

Brielle sighed and organized her documents, “Maybe.”

As she finished, the elevator dinged, and Spencer emerged, suave in a grey suit. Hel quickly straightened his tie and smoothed out any wrinkles-clearly, last night’s indulgences had taken their toll.

Brielle handed him the organized files.

Spencer’s face twisted with distaste as he impatiently headed to the private elevator, “You’re coming to the meeting with me.” She had prepared the files. If he was questioned, she’d be the safety net.

The atmosphere on the top floor was tense, the senior executives ready for battle.

Spencer felt a shiver of dread as he entered the boardroom and met the cold gaze of the man by the window. He greeted respectfully, “Mr. Dorsey.”

Behind the main seat was a large French window. Max sat there, like a tree covered with frost in winter when everything withers, devoid of warmth.

The boardroom was silent, the directors rigid with sweaty palms.

Brielle recognized many faces from the Dorsey family, some even elders to Max. She pressed her lips together in a small smile, meeting Max’s impassive stare. He really was a different person off the bed.

Spencer, pale-faced, found a seat, regretting last night’s indulgences.

“Thud.” A file hit the table, filled with countless receipts of personal expenses-luxury cars, villas, furniture, rugs-charged to the company accounts.

“An explanation?” Max’s eyes swept over everyone, finally resting on Spencer.

Spencer paled further, “Mr. Dorsey, I… His heart pounded with regret for arriving late and being the focus of scrutiny. The suburban villa was for Lillian, charged to the company.

Max chuckled softly, tapping the marble table, For whom?”

It was a slap to Spencer’s face, but with many Dorseys present, he couldn’t admit to infidelity.

“For my fiancée.”

Brielle rolled her eyes internally. She was the scapegoat for Lillian again.

Max looked down, languidly closing his eyes, “Really? Then consider it a gift I’m giving to

my future niece-in-law. But don’t let it happen again.”

The warning was for everyone.

With Max’s reputation as a Wall Street prodigy, no one would challenge him on his first day in charge.

Two hours later, the meeting ended, and the directors left with grim expressions.

Brielle, knowing Spencer barely noticed her, lingered at the back.

Meanwhile, Max remained seated by the window. He saw her close the door and walk

towards him with quick steps in her high heels

“Uncle Max, you’re really something.”

Of course, she had to butter up her sugar daddy.