Chapter 78
Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)
âMs. Brielle, Mr. Dorsey would like a word with you.â
The staff member handed over the phone, and Brielle worked hard to keep her composure, but the moment she heard his voice, her eyes began to sting with the threat of tears. She pushed back that hint of vulnerability, striving not to let her tone betray anything.
âMr. Dorsey.â She called out, then bit her lip hard, the taste of iron filling her mouth.
âA tenâbillionâdollar corporate secret?â The manâs voice was cool, waiting for her reply.
Brielle wiped the blood from her lip with the back of her hand, managing a smile, âYes, Mr. Dorsey, no need to worry. I will work with the police to recover the thumb drive.â
The soâcalled business secrets out of thin air only needed Maxâs admission to become a nailedâdown case. However, if he refused to admit, Brielle could be detained on charges of obstructing official duties.
Heaven and hell hung on his next words.
Max didnât speak immediately. After a long pause, he asked softly, âAre you hurt?â
Brielle felt a sharp jab in her heart, the burning sensation was unbearable. âMr. Dorsey, about that thumb drive-â
âLeave it to the cops. Iâm sending Brent to pick you up.â
His implication was clear. The thumb drive issue was legitimate. The staff members eavesdropping on the conversation no longer dared to delay, pressing the man about the location of the drive.
The man was already panicking, his mind racing to the caller behind the scene. âI really donât know anything about a thumb drive, I was just paid to disfigure Brielle, thatâs all.â
Compared to attempted grievous bodily harm, the other allegation was significantly more severe. He sat rigid in his chair, his gaze fixed maliciously on Brielle.
The police finally understood that the soâcalled loversâ tiff was a ruse, and in their fury, they whipped out handcuffs and secured the man in place. âSpill it! Whoâs behind this?â
Meanwhile, Emily was anxiously awaiting news. Pacing back and forth nervously, she was like a cat on a hot tin roof.
The thought of Brielleâs face being ruined sent a thrill of excitement through her. That bitch was so bold as to flirt with Max. This was her just deserts.
Her phone rang, excitement flashing in her eyes as she quickly answered. âHow did it go?! Did everything work out?â
But the anxious, tearful voice on the other end took her by surprise. âEmily, did you set me up on purpose? The police just called me. They said this is suspected to be a theft of Dorsey Internationalâs corporate secrets. This was your trap, wasnât it?â
Emily was taken aback, her voice filled with panic, âWhatâs going on? Werenât you supposed to have someone scratch Brielleâs face? What corporate secret?â
âHow should I know! Thatâs what the police said. Emily, I did this favor for you, got that thug involved, and now heâs been caught by the cops. If they trace the money back to me, Iâm done for. You better come up with a solution. If the other members of the Rowland family find out about this, Iâm screwed.â
Emily clenched her phone, at a loss for words. She and Sophia were good friends, and Sophia was a Rowland, although her status was just as awkward as hers. The darling of the Rowland family was their frail legitimate, daughter, doted on by everyone, especially with Andrew in her corner, showering her with attention.
âSophia, try not to panic-â
15.09 âHow can I not panic! Itâs not you who theyâll trace it back to. If it wasnât for your vendetta against Brielle, 1 wouldnât have gotten involved. Are you doing this on purpose? Have you been against me all along? Weâve been trashing Brielle together in the group chats with Lillian, all gungâho, and when it comes to taking action, you use me as a pawn! Are we even friends?â
Emily didnât expect Sophia to be so blunt, and she was starting to get impatient. She had no clue what was happening. âSophia, maybe you should talk to Tessa? Since this involves Dorsey International, if she talks to Andrew, heâll surely speak with Max. Theyâre on good terms, and Max wonât hold you accountable out of respect for Andrew.â
Sophia, seething with anger and frustration, hung up the phone with a click.