Chapter 253

Unaware of Max’s hospitalization, Brielle went about her business with a calculated calm. Spencer, who had recoiled at the sight of Brielle’s glinting switchblade, was now quivering. unable to utter a single word as he stared at her with trembling lips.

Brielle had little patience for his cowardice and didn’t bother to rush into contacting Ryan, choosing instead to wait for news from the outside. She knew that Ryan, failing to find Spencer, would inevitably reach out to the authorities.

By the afternoon, Brielle had made all her preparations. Spencer had hailed his own cab to the hotel a Dorsey International establishment that no one would suspect as a hiding place. Indeed, the most dangerous places can often be the safest.

Brielle had prepared a back–up phone with an anti–surveillance system, which she knew was untraceable. It offered only a vague location within Beaconsfield to Ryan–a needle in a haystack for him to find.

Brielle shoved Spencer into the bathroom, his mouth gagged, leaving him helplessly watching as she closed the door.

Outside the hotel room, Lillian had been lurking until a patrolling staff member spotted her suspicious behavior and demanded to see her room card. Lillian, prepared, took out a card from the adjacent room and slipped in after the staff walked away, standing vigilant throughout the night.

She sent Max a message, sowing seeds of doubt: [Brielle and Spencer are holed up in that room all night. What do you think they’re up to?]

Max, restless and sleepless, stared at the message for minutes before blocking the number. Lillian, desperate for a response, tried calling, only to be met with the dispassionate tone of an automated message; she had been blocked.

Anger flared in Lillian’s eyes–how could Max favor Brielle so? She clenched her phone so tightly her teeth nearly shattered. Plotting Brielle’s downfall, a wicked scheme began to take shape in her mind, and she smirked as she gazed towards the neighboring room, beginning to lay her trap.

Meanwhile, Brielle ordered a hearty breakfast, and after eating, she dealt with several company emails online. It was only when internal messages revealed Max’s hospitalization and subsequent high–level meetings that Brielle sprang into action. She called Max, then Patrick, to no avail.

Packing up a breakfast that Max favored during his stays at the hotel, Brielle finally obtained the hospital address from Kenzo and rushed to see him.

Upon reaching the hospital door, she was about to knock when she overheard Max’s conversation with Patrick.

“Mr. Dorsey, Ms. Brielle called. Are you sure we shouldn’t tell her?” asked Patrick, concern lacing his voice.

Max, looking trail with an IV needle in his hand, remained indifferent. “No need.”

“But she’ll worry if she finds out later,” Patrick pressed.

A flicker of coldness passed through Max’s eyes. Worry? She was probably cozying up to Spencer, realizing her past mistakes, and hoping to rekindle what they had. Blind, indeed.

Max let out a self–deprecating chuckle, suppressing the tumultuous emotions within him. “Our relationship is about to end anyway.”

Better to end things on his own terms than wait for her to do it. It was a relationship teetering on the edge, after all.

Exhausted from days of sleepless nights abroad, Max had tasted longing for the first time, only to be met with a crushing blow from Brielle. Thankfully, such feelings were retractable. He just needed a few days to recover.

His gaze fell back to the documents in his hand, but his heart couldn’t help but feel slighted. He had treated her well, certainly better than Spencer had. Why then would she turn to Spencer?

Brielle, standing just outside the door, fingers curled around the doorknob, felt a painful twist in her heart as she listened to Max’s words. Her fingertips involuntarily curled tighter.