Chapter 550
Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)
â this isnât your doing, Iâm going to call Ms. Haywood to come back.â
Max remained silent, his gaze fixed on the string of black beads as if in a trance. The gift he had given her with such gravity was casually tossed in the office drawer, forgotten eve as she walked away His voice sunk, heavy with unspoken emotion. âPut it down, and leave.â
Sydney caught the flicker of emotion in Maxâs stoic face, and her lips curved into a sly smile.
âBy the way, when Ms. Haywood left today, she had a few words for me. She was the one who mentored me. She told me about Mr. Spencer becoming the new director, and that he would like the outfit Iâm wearing now. Thereâs been a lot of misunderstanding in the department about me, and people think Iâm intentionally copying Ms. Haywood. But Iâm not. I just wanted to catch Mr. Spencerâs eye. Ms.
Haywood is even willing to help me out. Iâll have to come up to the executive floor regularly. Iâm not sure how you feel about Ms. Haywood since she hit Mr. Spencer. Iâm worried you might have some reservations about me as well, so I wanted to explain.
âMr. Dorsey, Iâll leave you now.â
Her words were carefully crafted, leaving no room for doubt.
Maxâs focus remained on the rosary, his brows knitted with aggravation. Today was probably the worst day heâd had all year.
Once the office door closed behind her, Sydney took a deep breath. The triumphant grin on her face said it all she had succeeded. She ran her fingers through her hair and headed back to her department.
Upon seeing the woman already waiting there, her smile faded, replaced by a look of genuine worry.
âMs. Alivia.â
Alivia was seated in the directorâs chair, her eyes flickering with disdain as Sydney entered. âHow did things go with the task I assigned you?â
Sydney loathed Alivia but was under her thumb.
âI repeated your instructions word for word, Ms. Alivia.â
Alivia nodded. âGood job. But I advise you not to get any funny ideas. You know I can crush you as easily as stepping on an ant.â
Michael had already informed her that Brielle had been transferred to another company with chaotic management that would divide her attention. And if Brielle succeeded, that company would become part of Aliviaâs wedding gift. The thought of using Brielleâs hard work as a wedding gift was indeed satisfying to Alivia.
Michael had hinted it was a good time for some subtle sabotage.
The humiliating memory of that night in the private room was clear in her mind; she couldnât СпаÑÑи 500 afford another rash mistake. She needed to play it slow and steady.
Last night, she had sought out Spencer, convincing him to sneak into Brielleâs home at Pearl Estate to steal the rosary, but for some reason, Spencer seemed utterly defeated, a shell of his former self.
Alivia had to expend a lot of energy to persuade him, and his current state was repulsive to her.
Spencer reeked of smoke and alcohol. It was like heâd crawled out of a dumpster. His appearance was unkempt, his eyes murky, mumbling, âShe wonât come back, never will. Nothing matters anymore.â
As a former ally, Alivia knew exactly what this meant. Spencer had lost his will to fight, and had given up any hope of winning Brielle back â a total waste, just as he had always been.
â
Disgust flashed in Aliviaâs eyes, but this âwasteâ had done one useful thing he had managed to steal Brielleâs rosary.
Just as Michael had said, how strong could their love possibly be? The seeds of doubt were sown, and neither was the type to clarify misunderstandings. Over time, this would lead to what psychologists call the âbroken windows theory. If one window broke and no one fixed it, soon enough, other windows would inexplicably shatter. One misunderstanding would. lead to another, and before you know it, when all windows would break, could they withstand the cold winds that blow through?
Brielle was someone who, when in love, was bold and unabashed, and when she hated, she was decisive and ruthless, unwilling to suffer fools gladly. On the other hand, Max was suffer fools gl accustomed to action rather than explanation.
The smirk in Aliviaâs eyes deepened. She had to let Max find out that Brielle didnât value the rosary as he did. His treasure was trivial to her.
There would be many more such instances to come, and it remained to be seen how much Max could endure.