Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

When Michael first brought Brielle into the company, he surely didn’t anticipate that she would have the guts to ruffle feathers the way she did.

As Belle made her stance clear, the room filled with tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Everyone present was fuming, but no one dared to speak up.

Keagan felt like he was sitting on a bed of nails. Most of the people who hadn’t shown up were at his own behest, a move meant to intimidate Brielle and put her in her place. But she wasn’t playing by the rules, boldly considering firing a whole slew of them!

Did the higher–ups at Dorsey International have any inkling of her maverick moves? Damn it! Who in the upper echelons was she cozy with?

“You do realize, Ms. Haywood, that stirring the pot like this on your first day–especially firing so many– might not sit well with Dorsey International, right?” a voice dared to challenge.

A sly smile played on Brielle’s lips as she thought of Max, still fuming. She would have to sweet–talk him later, but for now, she wanted to wrap things up quickly. “Why don’t you go ahead and let Dorsey International know? Their switchboard number is plastered all over their website. Go on, make that call. See if anyone’s interested in your sob story.”

Her tone was casual as she stood up. “Also, hand over all artist contracts for my review. Those over the hill will get a golden handshake and be shown the door. As for the up–and–comers, the company will pull out all the stops to secure them a spot in showbiz. And the agents who’ve been collecting paychecks without booking a single gig for three years? Dead weight–I don’t need them. Fire them all.”

Her words sent a palpable chill through the room; her presence alone felt as heavy as Mount

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“And for those talents with potential, the company won’t be stingy. If I catch wind of anyone cutting deals behind my back, I won’t be soft–hearted.” Pushing back her chair, her gaze swept over everyone present. “You have one day to get this done. Anyone who can’t cut it–don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

Her decisiveness was reminiscent of someone else–when Max first took the reins at Dorsey International, he cut the staff by half and slashed numerous product lines. It was a case of out with the old to make way for the new.

As Brielle stepped out of the office, she saw Ricardo waiting for her, his eyes gleaming with admiration and excitement. Brielle found it amusing. “You must have friends here. Go find out who’s willing to stay and who’s planning to leave. The company’s about to land some resources, and we’ll be investing them in those cut out for this industry.”

“Ms. Haywood, I want you to mentor me,” Ricardo blurted out, his head dropping, hands clasped nervously behind his back. The forthrightness of youth shone through.

Brielle was silent for a moment before responding, “I’ll find you an agent. I’ve got company

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matters to sort out for a day or two. Once the dust settles and the deals are done, you’ll probably be on set.”

Ricardo’s eyes fell in disappointment. Brielle patted him on the shoulder. “Act your heart out. Your sister needs you, doesn’t she? Money flows fast in showbiz. Make your mark, and if you decide it’s not for

you, you’re free to leave.”

His eyes sparkled briefly before dimming again. “I’ll work hard to be a cash cow here.”

Brielle wasn’t particularly moved. After all, she figured she’d only be running the show for six months. “Sure thing,” she answered, dismissively pulling out her phone to call Max. As she dialed, she headed for the elevator.

Ricardo followed her, seeking a chance to be of service. “Ms. Haywood, let me escort your down.”

“No need.”

His newfound courage deflated like a punctured balloon as he stood still, glancing down at his patched jeans and faded jacket, his cheeks flushing red.

Brielle’s call to Max went unanswered, and although she saw the text he sent, she could tell he was still angry. She was about to text back an explanation when Mason’s call came through. “Brielle, we’re about to scout locations and hold an internal online meeting with our team. Do you have access to a computer?” Mason asked.

Feeling drained but unable to ignore matters related to her own business, Brielle mustered her energy. “Yes, I’ll head back to my office now.”

“Great, I’ll invite you to the meeting in ten minutes,” Mason confirmed.

Returning to what used to be Keagan’s office, Brielle found everything replaced. The sign on the door now read ‘President’s Office,’ and even the computer was a brand–new setup. Despite its shortcomings, it seemed the company staff knew how to play to their audience.