Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

[Ryan wants to invest two billion in Alpha, and he thinks I can sway you. Uncle Max, does he overestimate me or underestimate you?]

[No investment.]

Max’s reply came quickly, a curt two–word dismissal. Just like when Brielle had sent her initial email, his emotionless response had been a flat rejection. Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

She licked her lips, unable to suppress the mischievous thought. [Seems I don’t have the charm to cloud Uncle Max’s judgment.]

As she sent the email, her palms were damp with sweat. It was a bold flirtation, her heart a mix of sour trepidation and sweet anticipation.

There was no reply from Max.

While waiting, Brielle researched more about Alpha. Whether they invested or not, appraising the company’s value was her department’s responsibility.

At midnight, she dragged her weary body to shower. Returning, a new email awaited her a string of digits, presumably, Max’s private

contact.

Saving the number, she glanced at the clock and texted him. [Uncle Max, is this business trip going to be a long one? Otherwise, Ryan wouldn’t dare show up at the office. He was just demoted. His brazen return must mean he’s sure Max’s tied up elsewhere.

Max glanced at the stack of documents on his desk as his phone.

chimed.

Across from him sat several middle–aged men in sharp suits, negotiating with Alivia. Confidence graced Alivia’s face as she

multitasked, her eyes stealing glances at Max. Once the men left, Alivia stood, poured him a coffee, and ventured, “I didn’t expect you to invest in my professor’s protégé, Max. Is this for me?”

Her mentor was a big name in the industry, and any investment in his students would naturally involve her mediation. She’d mentioned a software developed on campus by the student during a past visit to Beaconsfield, piquing Max’s interest. He’d asked for the technical details and plans, but Alivia insisted on delivering them personally, which delayed matters.

Now, her professor inquired, and she seized the opportunity to accompany Max abroad to the research facility, creating a chance for

them to be alone.

During the meeting, Max had been quietly listening while replying to an email. Was it an internal company message? She couldn’t help but recall the fleeting face from their last video call.

Alivia never worried about someone stealing Max away. Ever since they emerged as talents in their respective fields, their families saw them: as a pair. Her motivation was fueled by the name Max alone. She aspired to be the woman by his side, and she quietly thwarted any Beaconsfield socialite foolish enough to express interest in him.

How could those women, obsessed with fashion and perfume, ever

match Max?

Hearing his phone, Alivia noticed Max’s typing pause as he reached for

1. it.

Max rarely used his phone beyond making calls. To him, texting was a time–waster. But Alivia clearly saw him contemplating in front of the screen, as if considering how to respond to the other party.

A flicker of unease stirred within her, and she couldn’t help but ask, “Something from the company? I thought you don’t like to handle things via phone?”