Chapter 118
She had long harbored the ambition to cling to Max’s coattails, and Spencer’s words only made her want to hasten her stride. “Max has such a standing in the business world. Maybe you should set up a dinner to schmooze him a bit,” she suggested, hoping to imply her own presence at the meal.
But Spencer’s next comment was like a gavel sentencing her to a grim fate. “Even if I was to arrange a meal, it’s Brielle that should be my plus one. The rest of the Dorsey family can mess around all they want, just not in his line of sight. If I were to take you out for dinner with him, I might as well kiss my career at Dorsey International goodbye.”
All color drained from Lillian’s face, leaving her seething with silent rage. Was she doomed to be nothing more than a mistress, forever hidden in the shadows? She couldn’t accept that. She wouldn’t.
Spencer, sensing the sting of his words, tried to soften the blow, “Let’s talk about it after I call off my engagement with Brielle.”
But this did little to comfort Lillian. She had been feeling insecure about Spencer’s recent aloofness, especially his odd behavior toward Brielle. “Spencer, are you really going to break off your engagement with Brielle?” she asked, her voice quivering, tears threatening to spill
over.
Hearing this, a brief panic flickered through Spencer’s heart. Deep down, he knew he wasn’t ready to let Brielle go. She had always been so supportive and obdient, and now her disdain was like a slap in the face. Had all her past affection been a lie?
Was it possible she had never loved him? The very thought was humiliating.
“Yes. The engagement will be off in two months, tops,” he declared with false certainty.
Lillian bit her lip, nodding pitifully. “Then I’ll wait for you,” she whispered.
Spencer avoided her eyes, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Meanwhile, Brielle had just finished sorting through the gifts.
“Mark, you can distribute these to the kids tomorrow. I’ve organized everything. Here’s the food, and there’s the clothing.”
Mark glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s late, and you’re by yourself. Why not stay the night?” “Thanks, but I’ve got work in the morning.”
Not wanting to push further, Mark retrieved a few links of homemade sausage from the fridge. “I made these for the holidays. Take some with you.”
Mark was a jack–of–all–trades, teaching the kids to make all kinds of delicious food. Back when Brielle lived there, times had been tough, and each holiday was a feast to make up for the
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Chapter 118
scarcity.
Back then, wealthy folks would come to adopt, making a big show of it for the media, proclaiming their generosity. What happened to the kids afterward, though, the media didn’t care to follow up on.
“Thanks,” Brielle said, taking the bag of sausages.
By the time she returned to her apartment, it was past midnight. She quickly washed up, checked her emails and direct messages, but there was still no word from Max. No feedback on the documents either.
The next morning, she barely arrived at the office before being summoned to a meeting on the top floor.
Max was the last to arrive, and with him there, Ryan was conspicuously absent.
William adjusted his glasses and cheerfully broached the topic of the Alpha project. “Max, you’ve been briefed by Brielle, I presume. What’s your take?”
Max barely lifted an eyelid. “Who proposed investing in Alpha?”
Everyone in the room knew he was asking knowingly, but no one dared to answer. After all, allowing someone who had been dismissed to enter the boardroom was a breach on their part. Under their pleading gazes, William softly responded, “Ryan visited the boardroom earlier, claiming father’s approval. He’s got a cozy relationship with Alpha’s president and suggested they might let Dorsey International invest first.”
“In the future, let security keep such individuals out. If I’ve dismissed someone, I don’t want them back here causing a stir.”
His tone was indifferent, dismissing Ryan as if he were nothing.
Brielle, seated not far away, couldn’t help but smirk at Max’s imperious and strategic demeanor. To others, it might seem detestable, but to her, it held a certain allure. It was a shame, though, that such a cold person could still bend his principles for Alivia.
Would The Priest ultimately be forced to walk among mortals?
She lowered her gaze, choosing not to engage in the conversation at hand.
