Master of his heart (Max and Brielle) novel Chapter 662

Chapter 662 

Kenzo awatted her hand away and dabbed at his lips with the tips of his fingers. It was then that Brielle realized she had overstepped, and she quickly apologized. “Sorry, Kenzo Kenzo’s face remained serene as he brought a hand to his temple. “I noticed you hadn’t shown up. so i came to check on you. You look a bit pale. Have you been drinking too much?” 

“I just had a few glasses of fruit wine. I’m not that far gone.” 

They returned to the private room, and the scent of alcohol still clung to Brielle. She had forgotten why she had visited the restroom, and her mind felt hazy, 

Kenzo glanced at her sweater, still damp with the spilled wine. “Aren’t you going to dry it off?” 

Brielle looked up, her thoughts slow to catch up. When she realized what he meant, she quickly waved him off with a smile. “It’s alright.” 

She took a seat and chatted with Kenzo about the script for a while, took a few more drinks, and then began to stare blankly at the spread on the table, not touching a bite. 

Kenzo picked up some food with the serving utensils and offered it to her. “Not hungry?” 

It was only then that Brielle felt a hint of clarity return. She wasn’t sure if it was the effect of the wine or the heat in the room, but her palms were sweaty, and she felt an indefinable ache–everything felt off. 

Kenzo thought she might be drunk, but when they discussed the script, she was articulate and sharp, not showing any signs of inebriation. She finished the entire bottle of fruit wine by herself. 

Kenzo watched her, then, with downcast eyes, said softly, “You should eat something first.” 

Brielle managed a foggy smile. “Yeah, thanks, Kenzo.” 

She was as delicate as a kitten when she ate, taking small, careful bites and chewing slowly so as not to spill anything on her clothes. 

After a small bowl, she couldn’t eat anymore, although she did seem to favor the fruit 

wine. 

“If you like it, I’ll ask the owner to pack a few bottles for you to take home.” 

“Thank you, Kenzo. That would be great.” 

“Brielle, you’re drunk.” 

Maybe so. 

Kenzo chuckled, setting down his wine glass and watching her as she rested her head on the table, revealing a small profile. Her cheeks and ears were flushed, her eyelashes long–she appeared so soft and vulnerable. 

She’s not at all like the director of Dorsey International, the president of Stellar Stage Entertainment. Her usual icy demeanor was gone. 

Kenzo walked over to her and bent down to take a closer look, speaking softly. “Brielle?” 

She didn’t stir. 

Kenzo called the owner to settle the tab and asked for a bottle of fruit wine before helping 

Brielle out. 

As they left the private room, Kenzo spotted Annie sauntering down the hallway. A frown creased his brow. 

Annie stuck out her tongue playfully, hands clasped behind her back, exuding an air of girlish naivety. The man known as Murray followed her, feeling embarrassed by her behavior. 

“Miss Annie, Max is your friend, after all. You got an imposer and stirred up trouble between him and Brielle. If he finds out, I’m afraid…” 

“Oh, stop worrying. It’s just a bit of fun. Everyone says I look like Brielle, and it bothers 

me.” 

She pouted, her demeanor entirely different from her usual cool composure, clearly an 

act. 

“And I have to imitate her every day, which is so exhausting. I can’t smile, carry sweets, or even see Ricardo–I haven’t seen him in years.” 

Murray, previously threatened by Ricardo, scoffed at her words. “Ricardo doesn’t listen to our boss. If you visit him, he’s likely to give you a piece of his mind.” 

A spark of mischief flashed in Annie’s eyes. “Ricardo’s more fun; I like him best!” 

Annie clapped her hands, the thrill of adventure sparkling within her. She wasn’t worried about Brielle overhearing her. Brielle was too drunk to make sense of anything. 

And what if Brielle knew? Annie might just intentionally reveal her intentions, playing with her prey before going in for the kill.