Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Alivia was trembling, absolutely hating it when people said she couldn't measure up to Brielle. Sure, when it came to groveling, Brielle had her beat. But then, Brielle seemed born to it. Alivia, on the other hand, was a lady of the Barnes family, and if that wasn't enough, she also had the Dorsey name to her credit.

A spark lit up in her eyes, and she broke into a smile.

That's it, she could come clean to Michael about who she really was. With Martha gone, there was no way Michael would let Martha's daughter suffer. A newfound confidence surged through her, but she wasn't about to let go of her bargaining chip-Jaired. "Let me think about it," she said.

Jaired's interest visibly waned, his eyes darkening. He had no patience for someone who wanted everything without giving anything in return. The light in his eyes dimmed as he stood up and headed for the door.

Filled with regret, Alivia tried to hold him back.

But Jaired cut her off with a cold remark, "Next time you want to work with me, make sure you're doing it in front of me with someone else, wearing this exact outfit."

His eyes were sharp and clear, cutting through her embarrassment with a chuckle, "Very sexy, I like it."

His words said one thing, but his eyes showed no hint of passion or desire.

Alivia's face went pale as she realized she had just blown her last chance.

Once outside the building, Jaired lit a cigarette and leisurely blew out a smoke ring into the night air. Everything felt so dull. When would Beaconsfield ever get exciting? He dropped the cigarette, crushed it under his heel, and walked away without a second thought. Brielle glanced at her phone; it was three in the morning. The meeting with Mason had finally wrapped up. She yawned, her eyes watering from exhaustion. Stellar Stage Entertainment was quiet, except for a few young artists still training in the dance studio downstairs. Brielle grabbed some herbal tea from the lounge upstairs and brought it down to them. The young artists scrambled to their feet when they saw her, bowing respectfully.

"Mr. Haywood."

She set down three bottles of tea. "Donny mentioned you've been training late. How's he doing?"This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

Donny, their diligent manager, was usually the last to leave.

"He just stepped out to grab you some late-night snacks."

As they spoke, Donny walked in, arms loaded with takeout boxes.

Brielle, not one for late-night eating, said, "I'm done for the day. Share it among yourselves. Don't overdo it, and take care of yourselves."

Not wanting to make them feel uneasy, she gave Donny a few instructions and left. As she descended the stairs, rubbing her tired eyes, she heard a familiar voice. "Mr. Haywood."

Startled, she looked up to see Ricardo holding a document, a look of surprise on his face.

"What brings you here so late?" he asked.

The question snapped Brielle out of her drowsiness.

"Catching up on work I missed," she replied.

They walked out together, and as Ricardo waited for a cab, Brielle unlocked her car.

"Heading back to the set? I'll give you a lift."

His smile was warm. "I'd appreciate that, Mr. Haywood."

Brielle, ever considerate, asked, "How's life on set? Anyone giving you trouble?"

Ricardo shook his head. "Everyone's been great."

They all remembered the darker days at Stellar Stage Entertainment and had long since abandoned any underhanded tactics.

Brielle was about to continue the conversation when she spotted a familiar face-Annie.

Annie was sitting on a bench by the roadside, lost in thought. If it weren't for the bright streetlights and the late hour, Brielle might not have recognized her. Frowning, Brielle

watched as Annie wave.net'

As the car window slid down, Annie's face lit up with surprise.

"Ms. Brielle."

"Secretary Annie, it's past midnight. Heading to Dorsey International?"

The road they were on indeed led to Dorsey International, but Annie's presence at this hour was certainly odd.

"If it's not too much trouble, could you drop me off?"

Annie's smile was broader than usual, mimicking Brielle's own composed demeanor. Chewing gum, her bright eyes fixed on Brielle like a predator eyeing its prey.

Brielle's grip on the steering wheel tightened, a shadow passing through her gaze. In front of her, Annie unwrapped another piece of gum, the same kind Brielle had seen

discarded at the hospital as spoiled.

When Brielle had asked the doctor for details, all he had mentioned was the distinctive white-and-yellow wrapper.