Chapter Sixteen
“Brielle.”
Marcellus let the name out softly, in the sweetest way she had ever heard it.
Briella froze in the doorway. Her chest tightened, tears spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them. She hadn’t heard him call her that in years—oh, how much she had longed for it, dreamt of it, even whispered it to herself in her loneliest nights.
And then, before she could gather her breath, he pulled her into his arms.
It wasn’t the rigid, commanding grip of a Chairman. It was tender, desperate, almost trembling—like he was clinging to something he thought he’d lost forever.
Her heart pounded. Shock paralyzed her. She wanted to sink into it, to let herself believe she had her Marci back. But just as quickly, anger rushed through her veins, burning away the fragile moment.
Flashback –
Just minutes earlier, in the dark booth of the club, Marcellus had turned to Christopher, his voice raw.
“What about Genevieve? I haven’t heard from her. Not once since I came back.”
Christopher’s face changed. His usual composure faltered, and silence stretched too long. Marcellus’s blood ran cold.
Finally, Christopher spoke, his voice low. “Marc… Genevieve’s gone. Eight years ago. At your old house—on Kendrick’s birthday. She fell from the stairs. Briella never talks about it. Not to anyone. Annabel and I only know because we were close… and because Briella couldn’t hide it from us.”
Marcellus had sat there in stunned silence, as if the world had been ripped from beneath him. Genevieve, gone? His bright, brilliant Genie? He had left with that knowledge gnawing through him, guilt driving him straight to Briella’s door.
Flashback ends.
Back in the present, Briella shoved him away with all the force she could summon.
“Why are you here?” Her voice shook, but not with weakness—with fury. “Why would you suddenly show up at my house and hug me, as if nothing ever happened? Do you think you can disappear for years, come back, and expect me to just… melt?”
She pushed at his chest again, trying to steady herself against the whirlwind inside. He stepped forward anyway.
When she tried to slam the door, his hand shot out, holding it firmly in place. His gaze locked onto hers, pained but unyielding.
“I didn’t know about Genevieve,” he said quietly. His voice cracked, like glass splintering.
That name—her sister’s name on his lips—made her flinch.
“You didn’t know?” Briella let out a bitter laugh through her tears. “Of course you didn’t. You weren’t here. You never called. You never wrote. Do you know how long I waited, Marci? How long I begged God for a single word from you? Just one?” Her voice rose with every word, trembling with rage and heartbreak.
Marcellus swallowed hard, his jaw tightening.
“All I had were memories,” Briella continued, her fists balled at her sides. “I carried them like lifelines. Every stupid fight, every silly joke, every promise—we were supposed to be forever. But you came back a stranger. Cold. Distant. Cruel. You humiliated me in front of my staff like I was nobody. Why?!”
The last word tore out of her like a scream. She pressed her palms against her chest, as though to steady her breaking heart.
Marcellus stepped closer, his face no longer the mask of the Chairman but of the boy she once knew, broken and guilty.
“Because I didn’t know how else to face you,” he confessed, his voice heavy. “Brielle… I hurt you. I abandoned you. And the moment I saw you again, every year of silence came crashing down on me. I was terrified. I didn’t know how to explain, how to apologize, how to undo what was already done. So I… I hid behind the only thing I knew—my walls. My coldness. My distance. Because if I let them down, I didn’t know if you’d forgive me.”
His voice lowered to almost a whisper. “But the truth is, I never stopped caring. Not for a single second.”
Briella stood in silence, her breath unsteady, her heart fighting between anger and the undeniable longing she still carried.
The room was thick with unspoken words.
And just like that, the chapter ended.
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✨ End of Chapter Sixteen ✨