Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

In the chat group, the camaraderie was generally good on any given day. The members loved to flaunt their latest luxury car purchases or their sprawling mansions and chew the fat over the trivial gossip that bubbled up within their social circle.

Brielle was the hot topic that never ceased to intrigue everyone.

These folks were far removed from the elite inner circle–after all, those high–fliers didn’t have the time to indulge in idle chitchat. Most of the group members were well–off, leading lives of comfort, yet they suffered from a severe drought of meaningful engagement. Talking smack about Brielle was simply a way for them to feel a tad better about themselves.

Just as one felt the body being lifted when treading water, similarly, in any social hierarchy, those lacking self–confidence tended to highlight their status by denigrating those they perceived as inferior. And in their eyes, Brielle was the underdog.

After Lillian sent her message, ten long minutes dragged by before anyone bothered to reply.

[Let’s drop it. I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow.]

[Yeah, looks like none of us can make it.]

[What’s the deal with you and Spencer? Isn’t he Brielle’s fiancé? Thought you said he was like a brother to you?]

The question everyone had been skirting around was finally out in the open. After all, the video was crystal clear. Denial wasn’t an option.

Lillian’s hand, which had been dangling by her side, clenched. Never before had her relationship with Spencer been questioned. What in the world was happening tonight?

[Yes, I always saw him as a brother,] she replied.

Seeing her response while recalling the video and vivid photos, an uncomfortable wave washed over everyone. The chat fell silent once more, and this time, no one engaged with her.

Sweat pooled in Lillian’s palms, the evening’s events still a puzzle to her. She reached out to one of the more friendly faces in the group, suggesting they meet for coffee the next day. The reply came back swift and cold-[Find someone else. I’m busy.]

Staring at her phone, Lillian wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her. In the past, to get cozy with these wealthy second–generation kids, she’d simply gift them some priceless jewelry.

These kids lacked for nothing, but they always appreciated the gesture, seeing the giver as generous and kind–hearted.

Especially those whose families kept a tight rein on them. They loved hanging with Lillian, who was known for her largesse. For example, the one who had just turned her down–never before had she rejected Lillian.

16:37

Undeterred, Lillian messaged others in the group. After reaching out to four more, she found one of them blocked her outright, and the rest didn’t even bother replying.

Lillian sensed trouble brewing, but first things first: she needed to smooth things over with Spencer, then try to rekindle the bonds with her fair–weather friends.

She looked up, her eyes brimming with feigned vulnerability. “I’m sorry, Spencer, I never should’ve got involved with you. It’s made things awkward for everyone. Maybe it’s best if we take a break.*

This tactic of retreat to advance was one of her favorites.

Spencer gritted his teeth in frustration. “Sorry, Lillian, that you’ve been put through this. Tell me, which property do you want? I’ll give you another one.” Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

That was what Lillian was banking on. What did it matter how well a man treated her if she couldn’t hold on to something tangible? That was the real security. She grew up poor and only realized the importance of money when she saw how the wealthy lived. So, later on, whether it was with Cameron or with Spencer, she would subtly convey a message to them. She had suffered a lot in the past and did not want to put herself through hardships anymore in the future.

When male pride kicked in, they’d fulfill her every demand. Her wardrobe, shoes, bags, and bracelets were nearly all courtesy of Cameron, while her posh residence and the flashy cars she drove were gifts from Spencer.

As for Brielle, well, she was just a hapless fool. After years with the Haywood family, she didn’t even own a decent villa.

Lillian had always prided herself on her cunning, but tonight was her first defeat. She traced the root of her downfall to one person–Max, the pinnacle of their social pyramid. As long as Max harbored even a sliver of pity for Brielle, Spencer was putty in his hands.

A flicker of envy crossed Lillian’s eyes. If only Max would take her side.

Word on the street was that he occasionally showed up at Tequila Sunset. It looked like it was time for her to try her luck there.