Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

She didn’t think twice before hanging up the phone.

Minutes later, Robert called again. Brielle simply turned off her phone, unwilling to be disturbed on her business trip.

She grabbed her boarding pass and entered first class. Whether by Patrick’s design or pure happenstance, her seat was right next to Max’s. As the plane took off, Max was engrossed in a presentation video on his tablet.

He was quiet, his gaze intense and focused, a refreshing coolness about him that seemed

to soothe the soul.

Brielle, eyes closed, tried to calm her emotions, but thoughts of the Haywood family stirred

annoyance within her. When she finally opened her eyes and caught a glimpse of the content on the tablet, she couldn’t help but interject. “Michael Porter? Uncle Max, you’re into his talks too?”

Max was significantly taller, he tilted his head slightly, his face holding a clean-cut sharpness. “You know of him?”

Brielle nodded. Given this was a business trip, she didn’t feel the need to butter him up as she would in a more private setting.

“A professor at Harvard Business School, famous for his Five Forces framework,” she commented.

She reached out to help steady the tablet, her fingertips brushing against his rosary bracelet. Suddenly, he withdrew his wrist slightly, capturing her fingertips in his palm.

A flutter coursed through Brielle’s heart, and she struggled to focus on the presentation. “His framework is quite renowned. It even led Peter Drucker to introduce the concept into the field of corporate management for the first time. I thought someone of your stature wouldn’t bother with these anymore.”

It wasn’t flattery; after all, these theories were common talk in the financial circles. Max had made a name for himself on Wall Street by the age of sixteen. He had to be well-versed in such matters.

The warmth of his palm sent her thoughts racing, her breathing quickening. He seemed at ease, as if her fingertips were merely an amusing trinket.

“Professor Porter was my mentor.” His tone was casual as he held onto her delicate fingertips, just holding them, nothing more, nothing less. His presence was calm, cool.

After a moment of hesitation, Brielle gently clamped down on his fingertips.

High above the earth, every secret of the human body felt incredibly romantic and profound. Life was indeed a spectacular event.

However, she was well aware that their encounter was nothing more than a play of

circumstance.

Behind the romance was the biting chill of reality.

Several hours later, the plane touched down in the United States. Even as Brielle was escorted to a manor house, the purpose of the trip was still a mystery. She was trying to adjust to the time difference when she heard Patrick’s voice from the garden outside her

window.

“President, Mr. Hatfield from Hatfield Inc. is also here, for the auction as well.”

An auction? Was there a famous auction happening abroad? But if it was just an auction, why would Max have brought her along?

Soon enough, she got her answer. Patrick brought her a file, placing it directly before her. “Ms. Brielle, this contains all the research on the Hartley Group.”

The Hartley Group? Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

Brielle had been keeping up with international news since landing and hadn’t heard any updates on the Hartley Group.

“Tomorrow night’s auction will be attended by all of North America’s tycoons, and the President of the Hartley Group might bring up a partnership.”

Brielle felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought of all the North American tycoons in one place. What sort of auction would draw such a lavish assembly?

Suppressing her surprise, she took the documents and began to study them intently.

Max and Patrick left the manor, only returning around ten, carrying hints of alcohol on their breath. By then, Brielle had gone over the documents several times, not daring to set them aside even for a moment.

Her room was dark except for a single lamp by the window. When Max stepped in, he saw her poring over the pages, her hair cascading over her shoulders, her features illuminated beautifully.

There was something captivating about anyone, man or woman, when they were fully

immersed in their work.