Chapter 97

Andrew froze for a second, his reflexes kicking in as he swiftly turned off the speakerphone. Brielle was actually using Max’s phone to call him?

Max was a man who prided himself on his privacy, always loathed anyone touching his personal belongings, and yet, here he was, letting her get away with this much.

Andrew was a moment too late; Alivia had already caught a snippet of Brielle’s voice. Her brows furrowed, doubt crept in. Had she misread the display? It definitely flashed Max’s name, but the voice emanating from it was unmistakably feminine.

And Andrew’s hasty move to silence the speakerphone only served to fan the flames of her suspicion.

Her face cooled, fingers pinching the stem of the wine glass, silent, eyeing Andrew.

Andrew, trying to appear unfazed, continued, “What’s up?”

The corners of Brielle’s lips curled, “You promised me, Mr. Clements. You wouldn’t go back on your word, would you?”

Andrew frowned, puzzled by her cryptic message.

Brielle added, “Sophia and Emily showed up. They mocked me a bit and left.”

Andrew snorted quietly. He couldn’t quite figure out if Max was by her side, and he didn’t want to tarnish the brotherhood by throwing shade at Brielle.

But if he complained about Max spoiling Brielle too much, especially with Alivia right there, she’d certainly overhear.

Andrew was seething, his facial muscles tensed, “They mocked your and apologized, didn’t they?”

“They did, but I wasn’t satisfied. You know, Mr. Clements, my face nearly got disfigured this time. And I even broke my leg. Uncle Max has been absolutely distressed over it.”

Oh, the nerve of her. Andrew felt his scalp tingle with irritation. Standing up from the couch, he walked towards the door, voice lowered, “What do you want, exactly?”

As he spoke, he moved to the exit, his tone harsher, “Don’t think you can ride on Max’s current favor, Brielle. Save yourself some future trouble. What if Max gets tired of you? Do you really want to burn all your bridges?”

Offending him would get her anything good.

“Mr. Clements, didn’t you make a promise in front of Uncle Max himself? What’s this, a change of heart?”

Andrew had now left the private room, the surrounding quietness making his voice even clearer. He lit up a cigarette, chuckling with a hint of venom in his eyes, “Is Max with you?”

Brielle glanced over, poking Max’s shoulder, “Uncle Max, say something.”

Max knew she was doing this on purpose, but he had to admit, he rather liked Brielle’s cunning ways.

She was so vivacious.

Brielle stuck out her tongue, unable to resist a lick of her lips, eyes locked on him, “Uncle Max?”

Max’s breath hitched, his fingers gripping the back of her head, pulling her down into a kiss, grinding against those plump lips.

“Mmm.”

Brielle tried to pull away, but the firm hand on the back of her head kept. her in place. She relaxed into it, humming softly.

The call continued, and Andrew’s fingertips held a cigarette. Just as he was about to put it in his mouth, he heard a suppressed moan from the other end.

His hand paused, suspecting a trick of his mind, he couldn’t help but glance down at the screen. It was definitely Max’s number, definitely Brielle who had called, and definitely Brielle making those sounds.

And the one who could make her sound like that, was definitely his buddy Max, the man known for his stoic distance from women.