Chapter 93

Brielle’s tone was nonchalant, and seeing Emily turn red with anger brought her a perverse sense of satisfaction.

“And you think you can fire me? Does Mr. Dorsey know you’re abusing your power?”

Brielle glanced at the bedroom door. He hadn’t known before, but she figured he must be aware now.

Inside the bedroom, Max certainly heard the commotion outside. He was about to step out when his phone rang–it was Kenzo calling.

“Max, Alivia’s back tonight. We threw her a little welcome back shindig. You coming?”

Tequila Sunset was the go–to haunt for Beaconsfield’s elite, a place where privacy reigned supreme and only those with clout mingled. It was the venue of choice for their inner–circle soirees and gatherings.

Kenzo glanced at the woman sitting opposite him. She appeared calm, but her body was taut with tension. He chuckled to himself, thinking how quickly girls grow up and out of their shells.

“Another time, I’m swamped.”

The call was on speaker, so Alivia overheard, “I’ve only got a few days off before I have to return. Max, it’s been ages.”

Everyone in Beaconsfield knew about their near–engagement. Back then, her pride was too strong.

She feared rejection from Max, so she rejected him first. Now she deeply regretted it. If she had agreed back then, perhaps Max would have agreed to this marriage out of consideration for Michael.

She lowered her head, caressing her rosary. The cool black beads reminded her of the identical one on his wrist, and her heart softened.

“If you’re really tied up, I could come over to Dorsey International.”

With the conversation going this far, it would be cruel for Max to refuse. He frowned, but out of consideration for Kenzo, he relented, “Tomorrow night, then.”

Alivia breathed a sigh of relief, her heart swelling with sweetness, “Great, I’ll wait for you.”

After hanging up, Kenzo gave her a teasing look, “You know, you could’ve just called him yourself instead of using me as a go–between.” Alivia shot him a mock–angry glance. “Stop teasing me.”

They weren’t alone. Others sat nearby, but these folks weren’t part of the same circle as Sophia.

The elite had their hierarchies, with illegitimate children and distant relatives of prominent families rarely rubbing shoulders with those present unless they were introduced by someone. Alivia and Kenzo were at the core of the true elite, so naturally, those seated with them were central figures too.

Everyone had heard about Alivia and Max’s past, and now they couldn’t resist ribbing her.

“That guy hardly ever shows up to parties. We can’t even get his personal number, but you, Alivia, you’ve got some serious pull.”

“Get out of here. You want his number? At an international auction abroad, I was signing papers backstage with him, and I tried to say hello. He didn’t even glance my way. So cold, like an emotionless robot. I swear, you’d freeze talking to him.”

“Alivia, that rosary–don’t tell me it’s a matching set with his?”

Max was known for his black rosary, but Alivia having one too certainly spoke volumes about their special relationship. Even Alivia, usually so composed, blushed at this, “Max isn’t that scary. He’s just not big on talking. He’s quite gentle when it’s just us.”

“That’s because he’s only gentle with you. After all, you’re his old flame.” Laughter erupted around them as they teased about expecting to celebrate their eventual nuptials. Elated, Alivia let herself drink a few too many.

Meanwhile, Kenzo sat by her side, long fingers idly spinning his glass. He didn’t bring up the matter with Brielle–his sister was probably unaware. A smirk danced on his lips in anticipation. There would be drama to watch in the days ahead.