Master of his heart

Chapter 660
Even the so–called grabbing a bite was something she squeezed into her hectic schedule.
Brielle nodded, the lack of sleep evident in the faint shadows under her eyes.
Max watched her swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he pinned her against the wall outside the elevator. He kissed her for
several long minutes before striding away.
With a sense of loss, Brielle’s lashes drooped. As she lifted her hand to wipe her lips, she looked up to find several colleagues
from the executive floor staring in shock not far away.
Oh, crap.
Not only were her colleagues from the top floor there but so were several executives from Dorsey International. Everyone
seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move.
They must have exited the elevator in the wrong place–how else could they have caught Max and Brielle kissing?
The usually stoic Max had one arm around her waist, the other cupping the back of her head, looking like he hadn’t had enough
of the kiss. His usual aura of unapproachability seemed to have dissipated somewhat. He even bent slightly to whisper
something to Brielle.
Her face turned beet red. She had forgotten the time. It was Dorsey International’s office hours, and though it was still early, her
top–floor colleagues were always diligent and the earliest to arrive.
FCI I= F F 3
The scene had clearly stunned everyone; they were frozen in place, unable to snap out of it even after several minutes had
passed.
The man hugging and kissing a woman couldn’t possibly be their CEO. And the woman, smiling as she wiped her lips, calmly
greeting them–that couldn’t possibly be the same Brielle who had been a director at Dorsey International.
Were their eyes playing tricks on them, or had the world gone mad? Wasn’t Brielle Mr. Dorsey’s nephew’s ex–fiancée?

Brielle calmly stepped into the private elevator, and only once the doors closed did she slump against the elevator wall,
boneless.
Well, it was over.
Sure enough, no sooner had she left Dorsey International than the company’s staff chat exploded with a photo of Brielle and Max
kissing. Although it was just a blurry silhouette, the morning sun’s golden light, the clouds outside the floor–to–ceiling windows,
and the titanium–white overhead lights all made the photo breathtakingly beautiful.
What drew the eye most was their CEO pulling someone into his embrace, and his whole dignified and fierce demeanor seemed
to dissipate.
The photo was only circulated internally at Dorsey International. Nobody was indiscreet enough to leak it to the media.
When Brielle arrived at Stellar Stage Entertainment, she was still burning up. It was her first time being caught red–handed by so
many people. Though she managed to greet others, she wished she could just crawl into a hole!
Donny walked in just as she was about to leave. “Ms. Haywood, where are you off to?”
“Discussing a new script.”
1/2
Donny was surprised. Were there still screenwriters willing to sell their scripts to them? Stellar Stage Entertainment was slowly
improving its reputation, but everyone was still taking a wait–and–see approach.
The place Brielle was heading to was off the beaten path, an area she remembered was nearly set for demolition years ago.
There were a few famous local eateries there. She had eaten at one during her college days, and the memory was fresh in her
mind,
“Kenzo.” She called out as she entered, seeing Kenzo sitting at the far end.
The eatery was in a remote location, akin to the alleys in the slums, twisting and turning. If not for her good memory, she
probably would have gotten lost.
It was a corridor–style eatery with private rooms on either side. The corridor’s end led to other restaurants or hotels, a real
hodgepodge.

When Brielle first came here, it was with classmates who said Kenzo had personally recommended it, insisting that they try it. At
the time, she thought it was a joke, a way to claim a connection with Kenzo. It was only after seeing the message from Kenzo
today that she realized he was serious.
“How’s it going at Stellar Stage Entertainment? I saw the trending topics. The staff seem to trust you.”
Brielle shed her coat, revealing a loose–fitting, grey cropped sweater. The room was sufficiently heated, and she didn’t feel cold
at all.
The owner had already served up some dishes, all homely fare.
“Are you really willing to sell that script to me?” she asked, still somewhat incredulous after reading Kenzo’s text. After all, his
scripts were priceless.
Anything with Kenzo’s name guaranteed a box office hit and critical acclaim. Even a TV drama adaptation could become the
year’s champion in ratings.
“It’s just a script,” Kenzo said, his tone gentle as he poured her some fruit wine.
“Thank you.”
Brielle sat cross–legged and smiled at the familiar dishes on the table. “The menu here seems to be the same as always. I came
here once with classmates and thought it would be demolished by now. I never expected this place to still be here.