Chapter 373
Max slumped into his office chair, the weight of the world seemingly on his shoulders.
Patrick tiptoed behind him. Max was probably steaming mad, fuming at Ms. Brielle for not letting Max get out of the car and at himself for actually listening to her.
Max wasn’t the type to laugh much on a good day, and when he was mad, hysteria was the last thing you’d see. His eyes just got darker, his presence more hushed.
But the quieter he got, the more danger seemed to linger in the air.
Patrick instinctively tried to make himself as small as possible.
The office fell into a deathly silence, the air thinning with tension.
Buzz.
Max’s phone vibrated on the desk. He glanced at it, a text from Brielle.
[Can I try to handle this on my own first?]
The anger in his chest popped like a balloon, but discomfort still simmered. He texted back.
[How long?]
[One week. I can’t lean on you for everything.]
He could shield her from the storms, but also smother her from the sunlight.
Brielle’s affection had two pillars: submission, where it’s intimate, and autonomy, where it’s not. Only then could she be a whole person, and only a whole person could love completely.
Trying to cure with affection was a sure way to worsen the disease.
This was the truth she had grasped in their brief encounters.
[Don’t get hurt.]
Max didn’t stop her; he knew Brielle was different.
Her heart warmed, a softness flashing in her eyes, but she quickly forced herself to set aside personal matters and focus on the crisis at hand.
Now that Simon and his wife had gone to the hospital, the online storm hadn’t calmed.
If William was orchestrating this from behind the scenes, his real target wasn’t her–it was Max.
William wanted to corner her, force Max to act, and then use that as leverage against him.
What she needed to do was to grab a hold of William’s weak spots.
11:02
But with William being cautious for so many years, it was unlikely he’d slip up easily.
Brielle leaned back, pinching a pen in her fingers. How would she handle this?
Then it clicked. In business, when you’re short on leverage and need to close the gap with a rival you either bulk up your own chips or dilute theirs.
And right now, William’s chips were Simon and his wife. To dilute that, she had to make those
pawns useless.
A smirk curled Brielle’s lips as she dialed Tiffanie.
Her network wasn’t as extensive as Tiffanie’s, so digging into Simon’s background was best
left to Tiffanie.
Tiffanie agreed quickly, and with a promise of a dinner treat, it wasn’t long before Simon’s dossier was in Brielle’s hands.
He was a gambling addict, a materialist, and often abusive to his wife and daughter. And his wife, despite the abuse, clung to this rotten man. Sue came from a well–off family, but Simon’s gambling squandered her inheritance.
Even as her world fell apart, Sue never thought of divorce. Now, with their only daughter gone. she still blindly followed the man, demanding compensation for their loss.
“Brielle, Simon is drowning in about eight million in debt.”
With parents like that, Sarah really was a victim. But Brielle was no saint. The world was full of sorrow, and if you harm others just because you’ve been harmed, what then?
Wicked was wicked, and nobody cared about the abuser’s backstory.
“Tiffanie, thank you.”
Looked like a hospital visit was in order to meet Simon.
