Chapter 415

Martha couldn’t help but chuckle, shooting Alivia a look of exasperated amusement. “You, my dear, haven’t even walked down the aisle yet, and here you are, putting his needs first.”

“Mother, enjoy your dinner,” Max paid no mind to their conversation, his gaze steady and undisturbed.

As soon as he left, Alivia looked forlornly at her plate, her appetite completely gone.

Martha sighed with a mother’s concern when she saw her daughter–in–law–to–be like that. “Last time you mentioned Max was seeing someone, who is she? Is it just a fling, or is he serious?”

Alivia slowly looked up, realizing her slip in composure, and forced a smile. “Aunt Martha, really, these matters are for Max to decide. Besides, I promised to keep his secrets. You’ve been. unwell; don’t stress yourself over this.”

The more understanding Alivia was, the more Martha’s heart ached for her. Martha snorted dismissively. She was determined to find out who this sly girl was!

Alivia tactfully added, “I’ve heard she’s an employee at Dorsey International. She must be quite competent, I suppose.”

H “An employee of Dorsey International? Competent, my foot! She’s using her position to seduce her boss–everyone knows her game. Max won’t be fooled by that kind of woman. It’s just a whim at best. I won’t let someone like her step foot into the Dorsey family. Alivia, rest assured, you won’t suffer any injustice. If Max marries someone else, I’d rather be six feet under.”

Alivia was taken aback and quickly patted Martha’s back. “Please, don’t talk like that. I promise, I’ll work hard to win Max back. I won’t let him go to another woman.”

Martha relaxed a little, her lips pursing in satisfaction. “That’s more like it. No other woman is worthy.”

Alivia had achieved her aim, her lips curving in a faint smile. She had said it before–Brielle was no match for her, not even worth her personal intervention. A woman of lowly birth had no right to set her sights on Max, no right to dare love him, no status to love him.

Brielle’s fate was to struggle and scrape by in Beaconsfield. From birth, it was decided. Alivial was aas radiant as the moon, Brielle as lowly as the dirt. Brielle had never been her rival; Alivia’s true opponent had always been Max’s heart.

Max got into his car, intending to drive to Pearl Estate, but on a whim, he turned back to Premier Palace.

The snow continued to fall outside, as Beaconsfield’s winters were notoriously long. He handed the keys to the housekeeper and walked in.

Wesley, the butler, opened the door for him, his expression hesitant. Max felt an inexplicable unease, as if the mansion were hollow. That feeling vanished the moment he saw Brielle sitting 12:58 on the couch, engrossed in a children’s cartoon, the flickering light softening her features.

Max shook off the snowflakes from his coat, hung it on the rack, and approached her, Brielle watching a financial seminar wouldn’t have surprised him, but a children’s cartoon? The contrast amused him, and he couldn’t resist scooping her into his arms, “What’s got you into this kind of show all of a sudden?”

The weariness of the past few days seemed to vanish at the sight of her. He leaned in to kiss the skin of her neck. His hands slowly moved down as the others in the room discreetly withdrew.

Brielle wasn’t in the mood tonight, turning her head away from his kiss.

Max tilted her face back, noting the troubled look in her eves, and asked softly, “What’s wrong?” Her lips pressed together, and after a moment of stillness, she regained her composure. “1 just… I saw this little kid at the office today. He was wearing a coat with cartoon characters on it, from this show.”

Max frowned, not quite grasping her point. After a minute, he ventured, “Do you want one?”

Brielle, still anxious, couldn’t help but laugh at his off–beat response.

Max thought he had guessed right. “Which character? I’ll have one of my companies make an adult version for you.”

So Mr. Dorsey still harbored a touch of that straightforward, male thinking.

“It’s not that; I just thought the kid was adorable.” The hint was there; surely he would understand now?

But before she could gather her courage to speak plainly, Max’s phone rang–it was Michael His brow furrowed, and after a brief pat on Brielle’s head, he answered. “Father.”

“Max, did you hear about Ryan’s bastard child making a scene in public?”

Michael was seething. “It’s scandalous. That woman brought the child right to our doorstep!”