Chapter 153

Patrick couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he silently poured everyone some steaming coffee and took a seat on the sidelines, waiting for Max’s cue.

Max had skipped the office that morning, opting instead to hammer out three meetings at the crack of dawn followed by a bout of paperwork. The decision regarding the Book deal still needed a round–table with the senior executives.

The room was tense, with only the sumptuous aroma of shrimp and steak wafting from the kitchen.

Aubree was the first to snap, feeling like she was being forced to watch a public display of affection.

She didn’t buy the idea of a future between those two, but at least for the moment. Max wasn’t just stringing Brielle along.

Aubree might have been a mess in her own love life, but she was surprisingly lucid about others‘. She’d seen through Spencer’s unreliability a long time ago and had always advised. Brielle to break it off, but Brielle was tethered by the so–called engagement, willingly playing the pawn for the Dorsey family.

Given such precedents, Aubree figured she should advise Brielle to play her cards right with Max. After all, even the crumbs from Max’s table could, furnish a lifetime of splendor for an ordinary person.

However, she could tell Brielle was genuinely invested, albeit only a fraction. Not much, yet not to be trampled upon.

So instead of intervening, Aubree stood up, yawning. “Looks like Mr. Dorsey will escort Bri to the party.

With you there, I can breathe easy. Bri, you’re in good hands.”

She arrived swiftly and departed just as quickly.

At the elevator, Aubree stared blankly at the changing numbers before mocking herself, “Turns out, only Andrew is a real scumbag.”

Andrew had a person he loved, yet he shamelessly indulged in the affections of a woman who adored him, and humiliated her when he was in a foul mood.

Max might not understand love, but he was willing to break his rules for a woman he’d been intimate with, even if just once. That alone was enough to make someone fall hard.

The difference was clear.

Back in the apartment, Brielle pushed the card back towards Max.

Max, with downcast eyes, gazed at his computer screen, “Is it so wrong to want to give a canary a more splendid cage?” He had his own unique way of speaking romance.

Brielle looked at the card but didn’t reach for it. A splendid, sturdy cage could trap a canary forever, couldn’t it?

15:37 She was indeed drawn to Max but knew they came from different worlds. A bitter taste spread through her heart. “A mansion worth over twenty million is enough, Mr. Dorsey. You’ve been a most generous benefactor.”

“I have money,” he said, his tone indifferent, his brow furrowing as he puzzled over the rejected. offer. It was the first time his money had been declined.

Brielle couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, “I know you’re not short on cash, Mr. Dorsey. But Andrew cut me that check out of respect for you. If I took your card as well, it would seem rather greedy.”

She picked up a document from the table, “The restaurant Kenzo recommended last time was great.

Are you free tonight, Mr. Dorsey? My treat.”

“Free after ten.”

Brielle rolled her eyes internally. At ten at night, they’d be lucky to get dishwater. She eyed the hand he’d casually placed on the table and edged closer. “If you’re only free at ten, should I be waiting in the bedroom?”

Max looked up, his gaze colliding with hers. “That’s an option, certainly more sincere than a dinner invitation.”

Pervert.

Brielle’s face flushed, her heart racing. Conscious of Patrick’s presence, she couldn’t continue the banter and felt parched and flustered.

Patrick, ever tactful, seemed engrossed in his own thoughts, pretending not to hear the flirtatious exchange..

Brielle, having veered the conversation off track, now had to steer it back, “Are we heading to a meeting this afternoon?”

But Max, fixated on her face, didn’t reply.

Brielle’s cheeks had been swollen from the slaps she’d received, and even after a quick fix at the hospital the previous night, they were still slightly puffed when she came to see Max. By morning, the bruises had faded significantly.

Checking her reflection in the restroom, she had been concerned about frightening Max with her appearance. Thankfully, she looked much better now, and recalling last night’s tangle with him, she realized he hadn’t been put off by her swollen face.

“Who hit you last night?” Max wasn’t indifferent; he had simply noticed her off–kilter emotions the previous evening. Now that she seemed better, he wanted to know.

Was it someone from the Haywood family, or the Dorsey family?

Was she so easily bullied?