Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

The Clements Corporation headquarters was buzzing with the monotony of executive reports, but Andrew, sitting at the head of the conference table, was already growing impatient. His brows were knotted in frustration, his gaze constantly flickering to his wristwatch. Today was Aubree's day off, and he could no longer hide his disinterest in the droning presentations. Cutting off the speaker mid-sentence, he declared, "Next time, cut out all this fluff."

Snatching his blazer from the back of his chair, he gave his hardworking team a cursory glance and announced, "Everyone, trim the fat for tomorrow's continuation. We're done for today."

His tone was casual as he draped the jacket over his forearm and strode out of the room, leaving the executives without a word of protest.

Reaching the lobby, Andrew found his assistant nowhere in sight. It was unusual, as his assistant was always there before closing time. Pulling out his phone, he dialed her number, but to no avail; the call went unanswered-a deviation from her usual impeccable standards.

Without hesitation, he contacted the building's security to review the surveillance footage for any trace of his assistant. The cameras revealed she had entered the underground parking lot but hadn't left, even though there was a record of a vehicle exiting the premises. Had his assistant taken off with his car without so much as a heads-up? It was out of character for someone who had been a reliable right hand for so many years, especially without responding to calls.

He dispatched his security to scour the parking lot for any signs while also initiating a trace on his missing vehicle.

Within ten minutes, his security team reported back. His assistant had been found unconscious and stashed in a corner.

His expression icy, Andrew marched to the site.

The assistant, still a bit groggy, touched her neck, trying to make sense of the situation. Though not tall by any means, her competence had always made her stand out as Andrew's most trusted confidant. Upon seeing Andrew, she scrambled to her feet.

"Boss."

"Who did this to you?"

She shook her head, "Blindsided from behind. They took the car keys too. I didn't see who, but they were professional, clearly trained."

Andrew's brows furrowed; was this a

simple car theft? But with the

abundance of surveillance, any

stolen vehicle would quickly be

spotted by the police. The car was a limited edition, one of only a

ver

hundred worldwide-unlikely to be

easily fenced even on the black

market. So what was the assailant's

motive?

A sudden thought struck Andrew, and he hurriedly dialed Aubree's number, only to be met with silence.

He jumped into another car, running several red lights on his way to Stellar Stage Entertainment.

The company was still alive with the buzz of overtime work, but Aubree was gone. Someone mentioned she had left half an hour ago in a luxury car.

A weight sank in Andrew's chest as he alerted the traffic police.

Surveillance footage of the car surfaced quickly, but it had been abandoned on the roadside, and Aubree was nowhere to be found.

The panic and anger Andrew felt were foreign to him. He mobilized all of Clements Corporation's resources to find Aubree, unharmed and alive.

Meanwhile, Brielle was about to callOriginal from NôvelDrama.Org.

it a night when her phone rang. Yawning and drying her hair with a towel, she grabbed the hairdryer, planning to ask Max to blow-dry her hair

toor her. But Max was nowhere

to be found, not in his study where he should have been.

Descending the stairs, Brielle found Ramey sitting on the couch, sipping tea and playing chess against himself.

"Ms. Brielle, not asleep yet?" Ramey asked calmly, placing a chess piece on the board.

"You training your brain hemispheres?" Brielle inquired, eyeing the intense game laid out before him.

"Just for a bit of fun," Ramey replied with a smile, gathering up the pieces. "Seen Max?"

"Nope," Brielle responded, realizing she'd have to call him herself.

Before she could dial out, her phone rang with an unfamiliar number. She almost hung up but instead answered the call.

A deep, unknown voice intoned, "Brielle, if you want Aubree safe, drive to the address I'm sending you."

She was about to dismiss it as

another one of the Dorsey family's

typical ploys when a photo of Aubree's face arrived on her phone. Her pupils dilated in shock, and she was about to message Max when the voice on the phone spoke once more.