Donny furrowed his brow, momentarily puzzled by Brielle's antics, but he didn't challenge her.

Even if Brielle pointed to the sun and proclaimed it was the moon, Donny would only loudly commend, "What a perfectly round and bright moon tonight!"

So, even when Brielle acted out of the ordinary, in Donny's eyes, it was all seen through rose-tinted glasses.

Stellar Stage Entertainment's success was no fluke just look at Mr. Haywood with his unique way of answering calls. What might have been a somber affair became, in his hands, something of a tragicomedy.

Brielle continued her sweet nothings over the phone, the typical endearments exchanged between lovers. With a few tender laughs, she reminded him to dress warmly to avoid catching a cold, and now that the weather was heating up, to watch out for heatstroke. Her last words were "I miss you."

"Brielle, I miss you too. Be a good girl and wait for me to come back, okay?"

Brielle nodded eagerly, of course she would wait. After the call ended, the sweetness in her eyes lingered. She turned to Donny, sliding the documents in front of her across the table.

"I've gone through them; there are no issues. Even in my absence, you've managed the company well. The executives have been on their game, and the artists have been treated well. Give them a bonus of two hundred thousand each for the year-end, not much, but a little token of appreciation."

Donny nodded assiduously but couldn't resist asking, "Mr. Haywood, was that Mr. Dorsey on the phone?"

Brielle paused, then smiled, "Yeah."

"You two really have something special. I can hardly imagine someone as stoic as Mr. Dorsey dishing out sweet nothings." Donny had no idea how spot-on his comment was. A twinkle appeared in Brielle's eyes, and the corners of her lips curled. "Yeah, he can be a bit awkward."

Donny was green with envy. Just last month, everyone was worried about what would happen if Mr. Dorsey actually fell from grace. The media lambasted him as though he'd never rise again. How they had lauded him, they now trampled with equal force.

Max had remained silent throughout, seemingly indifferent to the slander. But Donny was genuinely concerned that the negative press would affect Brielle. It felt like a distant memory now, though it had only happened a month ago.

Then Max made a powerful move and acquired Dorsey International, flipping the script overnight. Those who had reveled in dragging him, through the mud were now lifting him up again. That's when Donny understood the adage: "False devotees flock to you at your peak, but true believers stand by you through dusk."

Though Max never truly had a moment of dusk-he was always above the fray, seldom engaging in petty battles. Donny always felt few men were worthy of Brielle, but if anyone was, it was Max. They were well-matched. After wrapping up the remaining work, Donny took his leave. No sooner had he left than Aubree arrived.

Aubree was now a luminary, her

every move watched by many. Within the company, she was hailed as Stellar Stage's premier starlet, with a throng of fanboys and fangirls seeking her autograph, looking up to her as a role model. Outside the office, Aubree walked with a

confident, trained gait.

"Bri, fancy hitting the shops with me this evening?"

But once inside, the door shut, her shoulders slumped, and she glanced at Brielle, somewhat apprehensively. Dustin had made the situation clear, but Aubree still worried about Brielle's mental state. Seeing Brielle seemingly unfazed, sitting at her desk, Aubree breathed a sigh of relief.

Brielle looked up at the stack of papers in front of her. "I've got to finish up here. Patrick is leaving soon, and I should see him off. After all, we've known each other for so long."

If Brielle stopped to think, she might

find the flaw in the logic-like why

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Patrick would leave if Max was really coming back. But she conspicuously ignored this detail, truly embodying the art of overlooking the irregularities. In her world, Max would still call to check in, and Patrick's departure was simply part of Max's plan.

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