Master of his heart

Chapter 60

Max was blissfully unaware of the havoc his words wreaked, lounging on cloud
nine with

the ease of a Sunday morning. It wasn't fair, not in the leasting on cloud nine with
Brielle’s emotions churned like a tempest inside her, and it took all her willpower
to stay anchored in reality.

She wanted to retract her hand, but it was impossible. His touch was feather-
light, barely there. Yet to her, it felt as heavy as a lead weight.

Logic and romance tugged at her in a fierce tug-of-war. At last, she tilted her
head slightly towards Max, her voice softening.

“Uncle Max, I didn’t mean to.”

Her plan had been simple: visit the Hartley Group to soak in the atmosphere. But
then Dustin happened. Dustin, the man who played by no rules, had led to this
very moment.

Max turned to glance at her, and something about the tenderness in her eyes,
soft as a pool of still water, struck a chord in him. Indeed, Dustin had hit the nail
on the head; when she looked vulnerable, it was truly endearing.

The frustration in his chest dissipated unbidden.

“I'm not blaming you.”

Brielle exhaled in relief, then pushed her luck a bit further. “I wanted to call you,
Uncle Max, but I didn’t have your number-or your assistant’s.”

She apologized first, then slyly shifted the onus onto Max. He saw through her
little ploy, feeling a curious emotion bubble up inside.

Before he could respond, Dustin turned Brielle to face him. “What are you two
whispering about?”

His voice carried a note of displeasure, his frown deepening at the sight of their
hands together. Years of socializing had honed his ability to sense the subtleties
of such interactions, and he felt distinctly uncomfortable.

“So, Mr. Dorsey’s kink is pretty special. Addicted to role-playing?”

Brielle’s lips pursed. If it weren't for Dustin's interruption, she was sure Max
would've given her his private number by now.

Feeling a touch vexed, she couldn't resist a retort. “Mr. Lynch, if you fancy it, you
can call him Uncle Max, too.”

Dustin's perfect facade nearly cracked, but Max had to add fuel to the fire. “I
would mind that.”

1712

They were in cahoots.

Dustin took a few deep breaths to keep from erupting in anger. He straightened
up and noticed the seats behind them filling up, which prompted him to warn
Brielle.

“Some media outlets have been invited to live-stream the auction.” His
implication was clear-if she didn’t want her connection to Max exposed, she'd
better keep a low profile.

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Brielle understood his hint and

murmured a thanks. Standing Ere

men like eae ©

Oabsing/ pub ic scrutiny. A misstep

could spell trouble. And her

relationship with Max was definitely

not one for the spotlight. Visit
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She straightened up and shifted her focus to the stage.

Three hosts had taken their places, and the consultants in the commission seats
were busy on their phones, relaying the events unfolding here.

As the first item was unveiled, a cascade of bids erupted, each outdoing the last.
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Brielle had once had the privilege of
attending a local auction with her
professors from Beaconsfield =
College, but se fag never witrfessed

ohe oF thi magnitude. Nearly every

face here was a fixture in financial
newspapers. There were even a few
familiar faces, individuals who had

been invited to participate in the
graduation speeches at Beaconsfield
College in the past. Visit

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Brielle herself had no means to participate in such auctions. Her gaze drifted to a
nearby seat.

The president of the Hartley Group, a man with blond hair and blue eyes, was
seated there. He sat with his arms crossed, noticing her gaze and meeting it with
a nod-a basic courtesy.

Brielle returned the gesture, acknowledging the greeting while her mind replayed
the news about the Hartley Group.

Dorsey International's collaboration with them likely meant selling off the
unmanned supermarket venture.

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In her opinion, Hartley Group should

be willing to cooperate with oh
eas pustisralksrie i ot
Uhbiénsthid he business strategy of

this president. Therefore, the specific
negotiation still depended on the

evening party after the auction ends.

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