Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle gripped the steering wheel, her fingers barely registering the cool leather as a wave of unspeakable exhaustion washed over her.

She didn't hit the gas right away, not until the impatient blare of a horn from behind spurred her into motion, and she slowly pulled out into the street.

She was on her way to Dorsey International as she got off work early today and wanted to visit Dorsey International.

But halfway there, she spotted Annie, arms laden with files, hustling toward Dorsey International. Annie was multitasking, chatting on a phone call without watching her step, which led to an unfortunate tumble, files scattering like leaves in a gust of wind. The sidewalk was awash with people in a hurry, too wrapped up in their own worlds to lend a hand.

Brielle couldn't just drive on by, so she pulled over and swung open her car door.

Annie, still on the call, was gathering her papers when she caught sight of Brielle and exclaimed in surprise, "Ms. Brielle."

Brielle squatted down to help, gathering the sheets of paper. "Why didn't you grab a cab?" She handed the papers back and gestured toward her car. "If you're heading to Dorsey International, I can give you a lift."

"Thank you, Ms. Brielle," Annie said as she climbed into Brielle's car, only then noticing that it was the same vehicle Patrick had driven just a few days ago. Her eyebrows arched momentarily, but she didn't inquire further.

As Brielle drove, she stole glances at Annie through the rearview mirror. Brielle did harbor suspicions, but she lacked concrete evidence.

The night she'd gotten drunk with Kenzo, her memory was patchy, leaving her uncertain if the clues in her mind were real.

Max, with his arm around Annie, had spoken of a stand-in. Brielle had questioned Max about it, but he seemed genuinely unaware of any such notion, and Max was not one to lie. He'd stood too long in his position to stoop to deceit. So either the scene Brielle witnessed was real and the man wasn't Max, or it was a drunken figment of her imagination.

Either way, Annie was suspect. This woman, with her uncanny resemblance to Brielle, right down to her demeanor, was hard to trust.

But Brielle didn't probe. If Annie's intention was to sow discord between her and Max, there would likely be more maneuvers to come.

The car ride was silent, with Annie waiting for Brielle to break the ice. She had prepared a script to plant seeds of doubt once more in Brielle's heart.

To her surprise, Brielle said nothing

throughout the entire trip. When they arrived at Dorsey International, call

Brielle said was, "We're here. Time to hop out." Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

Annie disembarked, feeling a novel sense of being outplayed. Usually, she was the one outmaneuvering others.

Her mood darkened, though her face remained composed. "Thank you, Ms. Brielle. I'll head up now."

Brielle nodded, her fingertips drumming on the wheel.

After Annie entered the elevator,

puffing her cheeks in frustration, she longed to pop a piece of candy into her mouth-a comfort when upset but the elevator reached the top floor too quickly. Here, she had to emulate Brielle, allowing no slip-ups.

Brielle didn't indulge in sweets.

Sighing, Annie tossed the unwrapped candy into the bin.

At that moment, Brielle reached the top floor and immediately spotted Annie chatting with Patrick.

She pondered Patrick's unresponsiveness to her calls, wondering if her recent silent treatment with Max had soured Patrick's view of her.

Brielle wasn't one to let misunderstandings linger, so she approached Patrick with a gentle tone. "Patrick, can we talk?"

Caught off guard, Patrick looked up. "Ms. Brielle?"

Brielle gestured toward a quiet spot down the hallway. "Is now a good time? It'll just take a few minutes."

After swiftly wrapping up his work, Patrick followed her. They stood before a floor-to-ceiling window, and Brielle spoke first.

"Patrick, I know my situation with

Max must be troubling for you. He's

not taking my calls or responding to my texts and I understand he might still be upset. But I hope in the

cel?

future, if I call you to check on him, you'll answer. Can you do that?"

A flicker of confusion crossed Patrick's face, followed by a slow realization. "Ms. Brielle, haven't you been the one not answering the CEO's calls?"