Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

“So, does this mystery script also incorporate reflections on human nature?” In the restaurant, Brielle talked with Kenzo about the new script he was currently working on. It was rare for Brielle to engage so openly with someone of the opposite sex, and her genuine smiles and the clear light in her eyes were a testament to how much she was enjoying their conversation.

“Like, how should one live their life? Pursuing happiness or sticking to duties – which is the right course of action? Is indulgence the correct path? Should we blindly follow the truths. professed by experts? Does an individual have the right to make their own choices? Should the majority opinion dictate the political narrative? Your previous scripts touched on these themes, but my favorite has to be the one from last year.”

She had watched that drama series the previous year, not merely to flatter him, but because she had thoroughly researched and admired it.

Kenzo looked up, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his mug, “I liked that script too. I didn’t even want to adapt it into a TV show at first; I felt like no actor could embody the protagonists the way I envisioned them. Luckily, the casting turned out to be a success in the end.”

“In my eyes, you are a true artist,” Brielle remarked, echoing the conclusion she had reached back in the library.

Kenzo, hailed as a genius scriptwriter, had many sought–after scripts under his belt, each selling for millions. During interviews, he had even confessed that his adapted TV scripts were not his most satisfying works; the ones he valued most had been destroyed by his own hands.

He spoke these words with a nonchalant smile to the cameras, having created a world, seen its beauty, and then, with a touch of pride and fulfillment, razed it to the ground.

Even if Kenzo hadn’t been born into the prestigious Barnes family, his character would likely be the same – like a romantic outlaw or the grandeur of ruins.

He wrote of his ideals; though they might be impoverished, mundane, or outdated, they were ideals nonetheless, lending him an extraordinary allure that was independent of his lineage.

“That’s why you’ve never changed,” Brielle mused, stirring her coffee as her eyelashes fluttered down.

Her phone rang at that moment, her brow furrowed upon seeing Spencer’s name flashing across the screen, and without hesitation, she hit decline.

Spencer was relentless, calling again immediately. He’s like a lion in fury, if Brielle were before him now, he would have been hard–pressed not to strangle her.

Just a minute earlier, his drinking buddies had tagged him in a group chat, bombarding him with photos of Brielle dining with Kenzo.

Enraged, Spencer’s face turned crimson as he kicked over the coffee table at home. He couldn’t fathom how this woman, whom he had dismissed, could be associated with Kenzo, who,

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despite his amiable demeanor, was innately aloof.

Fuming, Spencer learned the diner’s location and drove there, intent on confronting the presumptuous woman who, in his eyes, had become too brazen because of his previous leniency.

Unaware of Spencer’s approach, Brielle rose to settle the bill only to be informed that it had been taken care of.

Kenzo waited by the door, casually draping his jacket over one arm, “I’ve got a membership card here, gets me a 20% discount. No sense in not using it.”

A smile broke across Brielle’s face. Mr. Kenzo couldn’t possibly care about saving a few dollars on a meal. It was just his gentlemanly instincts that wouldn’t allow a lady to pay.

“Then let me transfer you the money, minus the discount,” she offered.

Kenzo’s lips curved in a gentle smile, “No need. Next time I’m working on a variety show script, just give me some feedback, alright?”

“Absolutely,” Brielle agreed readily, “I’m more than happy to help out.” Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

As they were speaking, a flashy sports car pulled up nearby, causing Brielle’s heart to skip a

beat.

Spencer emerged from the car, his face a mask of fury. Spotting the pair chatting amiably, he strode over.

“Brielle!” he bellowed, his face contorting with rage, “Just how many times do you plan on making a fool out of me? Have you no shame?”

He turned his scornful gaze to Kenzo, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “You don’t really think Kenzo would fall for you, do you? Ever heard about Tiffanie and him? You think he gave Tiffanie a second glance, even after all she did for him? Let’s get real, he wouldn’t bother with you even if you threw yourself at him. Don’t get too carried away.”