Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Patrick’s heart soured inexplicably as he thought about the possibility of a spat between the CEO and Ms. Brielle. The last thing he wanted was for them to be at odds.

Even in sleep, Max’s brow was furrowed as if worries plagued his dreams.

Patrick was supposed to drive to

to Dorsey International, given that Max was a workaholic and would most likely want to head to the office at this hour. But seeing the dark circles under Max’s eyes, Patrick took the liberty of steering the car towards Premier Palace instead.

Max was tall, and even though the car was spacious, it still seemed a snug fit for him as he dozed off.

“Sir, you should hit the hay on a proper bed,” Patrick suggested.

Max slowly opened his eyes to the sight of Premier Palace, said nothing, and got out of the car.

Wesley approached, ready to mention Ms. Brielle’s visit the previous evening. But noticing the chill surrounding Max and catching warning shake of the head from Patrick behind him, he promptly shut his mouth, sensing trouble. Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

Max went straight to his room, took a shower, and then lay down to rest. It was probably the first time since taking the helm at Dorsey International that he skipped a workday to sleep in the bedroom during broad daylight.

The bed still held Brielle’s scent, as if she had just laid there the night before. Though exhausted, Max’s sleep was elusive as her scent tickled his nose, making his eyelashes flutter.

He got up and went back into the bathroom, showering in cold water for an hour. It was winter, and the cold water was a stark awakening for his senses.

After the shower, he didn’t leave the room but instead pondered when he might fall ill.

Max’s constitution was robust. Sespite a recent fever and a relentless work schedule, two hours under cold water didn’t seem to induce sickness. His already pale complexion looked even worse. His aura was so icy it seemed it could lance those around him.

Meanwhile, Brielle had arrived at the top floor of Dorsey International. Stepping out of the elevator, she encountered Annie carrying a stack of papers. Annie did not recognize her and merely nodded politely.

For Brielle, stepping onto the top floor required a bit of courage, especially after the office had buzzed about her last encounter with

Max.

From the moment she entered Dorsey International, everyone, even the receptionist, recognized her face. As she entered the top floor, her colleagues cast curious glances. Those who had been slouching quickly straightened up as if the CEO’s wife was inspecting them.

Oblivious to these subtleties, Brielle was about to enter Max’s office when she saw Annie step in ahead of her.

Annie placed a cup of coffee on Max’s desk and began arranging his papers. On seeing Brielle, surprise flickered through Annie’s eyes. “Are you here for Mr. Dorsey? He’s taking a nap and asked not to be disturbed,” Annie said while continu to tidy the desk.

Brielle watched Annie’s practiced motions as she opened Max’s drawers. This prompted Brielle to say, his drawers.” Even Patrick needed permission before delving into them.

esn’t like others touching

Annie looked up with a smile. “I asked him, and he allowed me to. That’s why I’m doing it.”

Brielle felt a wave of discomfort, as anyone might when speaking to someone who looked so much like themselves. Although strictly speaking, Annie’s face only bore a fifty percent resemblance to Brielle’s.

འམ ཆ༴ ༢ ཞན འ འཌྷ ཚ ན

As Brielle stood by the desk, she watched Annie continue to clean. Her fingertips were tense as if she were caressing a lover’s body.

Annie, noting Brielle’s continued presence, got irritated slightly. “Do you need me to wake Mr. Dorsey? He didn’t sleep last night and has just now laid down.”

Her words implied that Max was in the resting room.

Annie’s tone held no provocation. She was simply doing what a secretary should, leaving Brielle unable to act as she might with prying journalist.

Brielle wanted to say she’d wait, but just then, the cleaning lady entered, apparently ready to disinfect Max’s office. Max had a mild case of germaphobia, and his office was routinely disinfected every other day. Under these circumstances, Brielle couldn’t stay and had to step out.

Annie followed her and couldn’t help but ask, “I don’t mean to offend, but may I ask about your relationship with Max? You and I sort of

resemble each other.”