Chapter 349

“Mr. Dorsey, what I’m talking about here is strictly business–the Book project is no small feat.” “Brielle. I really don’t feel like talking shop right now.” His tone was casual, and his presence emanated a gentle coolness that seemed almost out of place for a man who’d just shown such repulsion to the advances of an undoubtedly attractive woman.

Brielle fell silent. Her experience in matters of the heart was scant. Beyond traveling over hills and across streams to follow her desires, she knew nothing of love’s games, content instead to wait awkwardly for her beloved’s return.

This was Brielle in her most raw and precious form.

His voice continued to reach her ears, “Haven’t you missed me?”

Brielle’s lips pressed tighter, her heart pounding a wild rhythm. She was no match for Max. If Max decided to use his charm, no woman could escape.

Tears welled in her eyes as if she had been hurt.

Despite his hot–and–cold demeanor and despite the lack of promises, which included a featherlight assurance – wait for his return, she wanted to believe, to love with fervor.

Human greed could be quite endearing at times. Faced with feelings of affection, it was innate to become a gambler. Everyone hopes for that stroke of luck to hit them–just one gamble, just once.

“Yeah, a little.”

“Only a little, Brielle?”

Max chuckled softly on the other end, gazing out at the few irises blooming outside his window. He seemed to feel more than ‘just a little.‘

“When will you return, Mr. Dorsey?” To clarify everything…

A flicker of amusement crossed Max’s eyes, but before he could speak, a commotion arose at the door.

It was Alivia, her arms full of a lunchbox that now spilled its contents chaotically across the floor.

His brow furrowed in annoyance.

Horror painted Alivia’s face as she struggled with disbelief. Max was using such a tender tone with someone else. Max could be sweet, laugh, and be as careful and hopeful as any ordinary man in love.

Alivia’s features twisted in a fury, her head bowed to hide the storm raging across her face.

The hatred was palpable. Brielle–was it Brielle who had stolen what she loved most? Was Max’s smile for the irises, or was it for Brielle?

15:15 Alivia’s beloved deity seemed to have descended among the common folk, and for that, she was unforgiving.

Alivia’s chest heaved with suppressed rage, yet when she lifted her head, her face was alight with a radiant smile. “Clumsy me, I just got a bit shaky, Max. Are you on the phone?*

Max, interrupted at a crucial moment, felt a noticeable Irritation. As his gaze met Alivia’s, all warmth withdrew, replaced by the detachment of a machine.

Behold, the stark contrast between affection and Indifference.

Alivia seethed internally, her surface smile belying the tempest within. “I made some soup for Martha.

The doctor did say we should nourish her well, didn’t he? I’ve been out since dawn gathering the ingredients.”

Max didn’t respond to her. Instead, he quietly told Brielle, “I’ll talk to you when I get back.” He didn’t want Brielle to be exposed to Alivia.

After hanging up, he frowned in confusion. “We have top chefs here.”

He couldn’t grasp why anyone would engage in tasks outside their expertise. What was this thing called ‘human touch?”

To anyone but Brielle, Max seemed to lack certain emotional circuits because his words spared no one’s feelings. Although Alivia maintained her composure, Max’s comment wounded her.

Earning Max’s favor was a challenge. His brain was always engaged in rational analysis, making judgments on the viability of every action.

With top chefs and ingredients available at the sanatorium, why bother making soup herself? He didn’t understand, nor could he feel moved. From his perspective, the gesture was simply incomprehensible.

“Alivia, let the professionals handle their work.”

Another cutting remark.

Alivia’s hatred grew wild inside, wishing she could fly back home and tear Brielle to pieces.

How could Brielle deserve his love!