Escaping The Bewitching Madness Of His Heart

"Janice, you're fresh back from overseas. This place must still feel unfamiliar. I'd never want Bryson to let you down," Brianna Mills said warmly, patting Janice Sutton's hand with a caring tenderness, her eyes crinkling in gentle concern.

Bryson Mills's lips curled into an easy smile, a flicker of genuine warmth brightening his normally distant eyes. "Grandma, I treasure her. I wouldn't let anything-or anyone-hurt her," he declared, his voice casual but carrying a note of quiet promise.

Madelyn Dixon stepped inside just then, clutching a file to her chest. The warm atmosphere in the room wrapped around her like a vice.

When they first began dating, Bryson had promised her that their secrecy was for her own good-he wanted to protect her reputation, to make sure no one questioned her competence at work.

So Madelyn poured everything she had into her job. She stayed late night after night, mingling with clients until exhaustion blurred her vision, and gave up any hint of special treatment. She never once let herself grumble.

Yet now, in this moment, she felt raw and ridiculous, as if all those years of loyalty had been nothing but a one-sided joke.

Bryson's father was the unchallenged heavyweight in Zrerton's political sphere, while his mother-the only daughter of the wealthiest man in Ewriron-stood next in line to inherit the sprawling fortune. Together, they embodied an unbeatable alliance: authority and affluence intertwined in one marriage.

Their union had produced only two children-a son and a daughter-making their legacy feel all the more exclusive.

Bryson himself was the absolute center of attention in elite circles, like the moon surrounded by stars-it was nearly impossible for ordinary folks to even get an audience with him.

Madelyn's fingernails bit into her palm, the pain snapping her back to reality. She forced her gaze across the living room.

Janice perched quietly on the couch, the very picture of modesty and restraint. Barely out of her early twenties, she radiated a delicate, youthful beauty.

Soft curls cascaded over her shoulders, wispy bangs falling just right to frame her gentle features.

There was something so unassuming about her-she hardly spoke, yet her purity and understated elegance seemed to glow in the soft light.

Bryson settled in next to Janice, the two of them sharing soft, private words that drew them even closer.

Laughter colored Janice's face, her cheeks glowing with a gentle, unbroken flush.

A quiet unease flickered across Madelyn's expression.

The Mills family had played matchmaker for Bryson more times than she could count, but he'd always treated those arrangements as mere formalities-never bothering to keep up appearances for long. After a day or two, each would fizzle out as if nothing had happened.

But this time, something was off. Something had shifted.

A fluffy, white, curly-haired puppy lay sprawled across Bryson's lap, dozing with utter contentment.

Bryson's hand rested on its back, his fingers absently combing through the silken fur-a sight that left Madelyn stunned. He despised animals, especially anything with long hair.

On his birthday in their third year together, Madelyn had spent weeks picking out a sweet, gorgeous ragdoll cat, hoping to surprise him. He'd recoiled at the sight, his expression turning frosty.

Without even touching the cat, he demanded she take it away at once, warning her coldly that if she ever brought a pet home again, she'd be packing her bags right along with it.

Now, Janice's puppy sprawled across Bryson's lap, tail thumping lazily, while he absentmindedly ran his elegant fingers along its back.

Madelyn's eyes narrowed, a calculating edge creeping into her expression as she studied Janice.

In all those years at Bryson's side, never once had she witnessed him bend for anyone-let alone tolerate a pet in his arms. It was almost unthinkable.

For a moment, the realization hit her so hard it felt as though her heart had been pricked by a thousand invisible needles. Still, she forced herself to focus.

Composing herself, she stepped forward, offering Bryson the document. Leaning closer, she murmured, "The supplier needs this signed. If we wait any longer, it's going to throw off the whole delivery timeline."

Bryson leaned away, glancing at her with the faintest flicker of irritation. "You're not supposed to be here."

Madelyn's grip tightened imperceptibly on the papers, but her tone remained steady. "You ignored my calls and messages. I didn't have another option."

"Bryson, who's she?" Janice leaned forward slightly, her bright eyes sweeping over Madelyn with open curiosity. "She's gorgeous."

Madelyn met Janice's gaze with composed politeness. "Thank you, Miss Sutton. I'm Madelyn Dixon-Brennan Group's head of PR."

She managed a small, professional smile, then smoothly turned her attention back to Bryson, her voice shifting into business mode. "Saturday evening, Murphy Group's chairman's only son is hosting his wedding at..."

Bryson cut her off, his tone sharp and impatient, "Handle it for me. I have other plans."

Brianna's voice followed quickly, tinged with reproach. "Bryson, you really shouldn't bring office matters into the house. Letting outsiders come and go in the Mills Mansion just isn't appropriate. If your father hears about this, you know he won't be pleased."

Draped in an elegant dress and jade jewelry that radiated regal confidence, Brianna spoke with quiet command, every word weighted by her natural authority.

Bryson dipped his head in agreement. "I understand, Grandma. The staff made a mistake-I won't let her inside again."

Madelyn's balance faltered for a split second. Bryson was the one who'd told her, in urgent situations, she could come straight to the Mills Mansion to find him.

Before his trip, he'd been gentle, warm-yet now he silently sided with Brianna, letting her be dismissed as just an "outsider."

Without glancing at her, Bryson scrawled his signature on the final page, tossed the contract back toward Madelyn, and snatched up a wet wipe, scrubbing his hands with practiced indifference. "If you need me in the future, leave any documents with the security. Don't come up."

Madelyn paused, her voice barely above a whisper. "What about confidential documents?"

Bryson didn't bother replying right away-he just glanced up, fixing her with a cool, unreadable stare before delivering a quiet rebuke. "You seem especially talkative today."

Across the room, Brianna observed the exchange with a thin, knowing smile. She'd never warmed to Madelyn. There was always something guarded and restless in Madelyn's gaze-a quality Brianna instinctively distrusted.

With effortless poise, Brianna shifted the conversation, her words lilting with gentle authority. "Bryson, don't let work eat up your whole evening. Janice needs your attention, too."

Bryson responded by turning to Janice, his demeanor instantly softening. He reached for a delicate pastry, offering it to her lips with a gentle coax.

"Here, have a little snack. Dinner will be ready soon," he murmured, his tone warm.

Watching the scene unfold, Madelyn felt her face drain of color. The simple, tender gesture cut through her composure, and for a fleeting moment, she looked every bit like an intruder-utterly dwarfed by the mansion's cold, imposing luxury.

A flush spread across Janice's cheeks as she instinctively drew back, but she accepted the pastry.

She took a tentative bite, leaving a dusting of crumbs on her lips.

Bryson, without hesitation, leaned in and gently brushed them away with a tissue.

His cool fingertips grazed her lips through the thin paper-so casual, so precise, his usual fastidiousness nowhere in sight.

"Why don't you stay the night here instead of going back?" Bryson's voice softened as he met Janice's eyes.

Color rushed into Janice's face. She dropped her gaze and nodded, voice barely more than a whisper. "Okay."

Madelyn stood silently on the sidelines, watching as Bryson's attention never wavered from Janice. The sight left a dull ache in her chest, every breath feeling tight and shallow.

Several months back, Madelyn had been pressured into drinking at a client dinner, the aftereffects leaving her with a vicious stomach ulcer. She spent two miserable weeks in the hospital, barely able to swallow a bite, her body growing gaunt and frail.

Throughout that ordeal, Bryson hadn't shown up once-always excusing himself with endless work, too busy to even check in.

Yet here he was now, doting over another woman. He'd just brushed the pastry crumbs off Janice's lips himself, his movements gentle and careful, as if afraid she might break.

A dull ache twisted through Madelyn's chest, though her face betrayed nothing.

Catching the look in Madelyn's eyes, Janice's cheeks bloomed with color. "It's Bryson's first time introducing me to his family. He knows I get nervous, so he's being especially thoughtful. I hope you don't take offense, Miss Dixon," she murmured.

Of course, Madelyn knew exactly where she stood. Bryson's family had never warmed to her.

The first time he brought her to the house, any illusion of warmth was shattered-there were no gentle welcomes, just his mother, Julissa Brennan's biting jabs and a string of veiled insults. She'd barely set her purse down before being conscripted to serve tea to Brianna, forced to stand dutifully by until her legs ached and she could finally sit.

Brianna's harsh words echoed even now. "You're just a pretty face in PR, meant for pouring drinks-not for latching onto our Mills family. Know your place!"

After that humiliating visit, Madelyn avoided their mansion as much as possible.

If it weren't for today's urgent contract, she would have happily steered clear of all this icy disdain.

Janice, however, belonged in their world. As the pampered daughter of Robert Sutton, a jewelry mogul with a fortune and spotless reputation, she moved through these gilded halls with effortless grace-a young woman bred to be adored and protected.

"You're too gracious, Miss Sutton," Madelyn replied with a polished smile, masking every flicker of unease.

She had spent years by Bryson's side, always keeping her head down, never asking for protection, never daring to expect a hint of his affection.

Still, the least he owed her was a simple heads-up before parading a new woman into his life.

She wasn't the type to make a scene or beg for scraps.

"I'm sorry, I need to use the bathroom for a moment," Madelyn remarked, her voice tight as she searched for an escape-anywhere she could steady her spiraling thoughts.

After splashing cold water on her face, she stepped out into the dim corridor, only to run straight into a broad, unyielding chest.

Bryson towered in front of her, exuding that familiar air of cold detachment.

His expensive black shirt was now flecked with white dog hair, but he didn't so much as brush it off or wrinkle his nose in distaste.

He lingered in the hallway, arms folded, his posture radiating authority. With a glance as sharp as ice, he finally spoke-voice clipped, leaving no room for argument. "Show Janice some respect."

Madelyn pressed her lips together, steadying her voice as she demanded, "And what exactly does respect look like to you?"

Bryson's gaze locked onto hers, an edge of challenge glinting in his eyes-catching the hint of defiance in her usually restrained expression.

A crooked smirk tugged at his lips as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering for an extra beat, gently squeezing her earlobe.

With a level, almost indifferent tone, he told her, "She's pure-nothing like you. Stay away from her."

Madelyn hadn't clawed her way to the top of Brennan Group's PR department without learning how to handle the parade of jealous women in Bryson's orbit, but this was different-this was him warning her off, as if she were the threat.

His attitude wasn't harsh, not exactly. But when he drew that line-"She's pure-nothing like you"-something sharp and bitter lodged in Madelyn's chest.

Madelyn stared at him, her tone edged with challenge. "So I'm tainted now? Is that what you think-just because of my job?"

Bryson sidestepped her accusation, his voice sharp and measured. "Janice starts at the company tomorrow. Make sure Ramona keeps an eye on her."

Ramona Williams-Madelyn's best friend and Bryson's right hand in the executive office-stood as a quiet pillar of support.

The executive office wasn't like PR; under Bryson's watchful gaze, it was a fortress, untouchable.

Madelyn had spent years navigating the treacherous waters of PR. She'd crossed paths with every kind of manipulator-sharp-tongued, predatory men who lurked behind polite smiles, always looking for an opening. After every night of forced smiles and endless rounds of drinks, she returned home bone-tired, drained from fending off their sleazy advances and hollow flattery.

In the past, she'd floated the idea of moving into the executive office, hoping for a lighter workload as an assistant.

Bryson had brushed her off. "The PR department is the backbone of this company. I put you there because I trust you with what matters most."

Yet, when Janice was involved, he went out of his way to shield her, never allowing her to take on anything too demanding.

A sense of injustice twisted inside Madelyn. They all dismissed her because of her job entertaining clients, ignoring the real reasons she'd managed to hold that ground for so long.

Her eyes dropped, quietly masking every raw emotion. In a voice that betrayed nothing, she queried, "So, you really care about her?"

Bryson's answer was grave, leaving no room for doubt. "I do."

A sudden ache lanced through Madelyn's chest, raw and unyielding.

Her voice quivered, the opulent walls of the Mills Mansion blurring around her as she blurted, "And what about me? After all these years, what am I to you?"

Bryson leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to hers, his breath ghosting over her lips as he answered in a tired, almost defeated whisper, "Nothing is going to change between us."

A hollow laugh slipped from Madelyn, the bitter edge unmistakable. She understood perfectly-in public, she would always be the sharp, unflappable PR director; behind closed doors, just the loyal woman who quietly stood in his shadow. That was the future he offered: nothing would change, because he'd never intended to give her anything more.

Her hands curled into fists, nails biting into her palms as she forced herself to look away, voice steady but cold. "I refuse to be your second option, Bryson. If you've made your choice, then let's end this now."

As Madelyn made her way out, she nearly collided with Bryson's father, Dominick Mills, in the corridor.

She drew herself up, her posture graceful and self-assured, offering him a cool but courteous greeting before sidestepping his imposing frame.

Dominick's eyes swept over her, his features set in a disapproving frown as he turned to Bryson. "You should spend less energy on distractions. The Sutton family won't put up with being slighted."

Bryson barely looked up, his voice cool and detached. "I've got it under control, Dad."

The following morning, the fluorescent lights of the underground parking lot painted everything in a pale haze.

As Madelyn crossed to the elevator, Ramona hurried up, her heels echoing off the concrete. "Madelyn, what happened last night? Why did Bryson suddenly go public with Janice?" Ramona blurted out, her voice taut with concern.

The rumor mill had already churned overnight-everyone who was anyone now knew the Mills family had opened their arms for Janice.

Madelyn kept her face unreadable, moving briskly toward the waiting elevator. "There's nothing going on." She pressed the button, her tone clipped. "Janice starts in the executive office today. You're appointed to mentor her personally."

"Bryson really just let her waltz straight into the executive office?" Ramona's lips curled with open resentment, her eyes narrowing. "You pleaded for that transfer forever, and he wouldn't even budge. Now suddenly he's eager to help her? Does he even recognize everything you've done for him?"

Ever since she began dating Bryson four years ago, Madelyn had been tossed into the PR department. She had endured years of grueling challenges-late nights, endless client dinners, and everything else. Every win was hard-earned. She'd endured it all and clawed her way up, gathering respect and experience in equal measure.

When Bryson took over Brennan Group, plenty of senior shareholders resented seeing a Mills step into the top seat. More than a few worked behind the scenes, scheming to drag him down.

Yet time and again, it was Madelyn's sharp instincts and unmatched finesse that turned the tide. As head of PR, she landed a string of high-profile deals that fortified Bryson's standing within the company.

Each success was significant enough to make her resume glow and command respect in any boardroom.

Over the years, countless companies had dangled lucrative offers in front of Madelyn, but she never once let her loyalty to Brennan Group slip.

Now, though, everything had changed. All she wanted was to collect what Julissa owed her and escape this suffocating place for good.

Four years back, her childhood friend Simon Owen had vanished without a trace. Julissa had dangled a promise: stick with Bryson until his wedding, and she'd reveal Simon's whereabouts. That deal was the only reason Madelyn endured for so long.

Simon was more than a friend-he was the one constant in her chaotic life, the person she'd cross any line to find.

Ramona's temper flared. "Why don't you just quit already? Leave that ungrateful bastard in the dust!" she snapped, reckless with her anger.

Madelyn fixed Ramona with a pointed, serious look. "Ramona, watch your mouth," she murmured, lowering her voice. "You know how easily things get back to the Mills family."

Both of them knew the dangers of crossing them.

Ramona's outrage simmered in her voice. "Am I wrong? The entire company knows you're Bryson's actual girlfriend. He refuses to admit it in public, and now he's parading some side piece around just to rub it in your face! Are you really going to let him walk all over you like this-supporting both him and his side chick?"

Madelyn started to warn her to be careful, but just then the elevator doors slid open. On the other side, Janice was ringed by a cluster of colleagues, their laughter echoing down the hallway.

Ramona strode out first, cutting the crowd a sharp look. "It's barely morning-don't you people have work to do? Enough with the gossip."

Janice caught sight of Madelyn and flashed her a dazzling smile. "Good morning, Miss Dixon."

"Good morning," Madelyn replied, her voice cool but unfailingly polite.

Bryson's warning was still fresh in her mind.

She turned to Ramona, her tone brisk. "Show her to the executive office."

Ramona leveled a sharp look at Janice, radiating unmistakable authority as she gestured for her to come along. "Let's go."

Janice offered an apologetic smile, her voice gentle. "Sorry, we'll have to wait a minute-Bryson's grabbing my office supplies. He told me to stay put until he gets back."

Ramona was so taken aback, she nearly sputtered, eyes wide as she stared at Madelyn in disbelief. Bryson, fetching supplies for Janice? That was a level of consideration Madelyn had never seen-not even once.

Madelyn's lashes trembled, but her face stayed perfectly composed. "I'm heading to my desk."

"Hold on-swing by my office. I need you for something." Bryson's voice cut through the corridor behind her, prompting Madelyn to stop and turn around.

He pressed a box into Ramona's arms, not sparing her a glance, and addressed Janice with deliberate care. "Stick with Ramona during orientation. Don't go wandering off by yourself."

Ramona's jaw clenched, but she accepted the box and set off, Janice trailing meekly at her heels.

Madelyn fell into step beside Bryson, following him into his office. "You'll be joining the project team at Southverd Development Zone today," he informed her without preamble.

Inside, Bryson shrugged off his suit jacket and handed it over without looking.

She took it automatically, the fabric brushing her knuckles-carrying a crisp citrus note she instantly recognized. It was the same scent she'd caught on Janice moments ago.

Madelyn paused, schooling her face into calm as she settled his suit jacket on the rack. Feigning an easy air, she glanced over. "Is there an issue?"

Bryson, pressing his fingers to his temples, let out a weary sigh. "There's a holdout on Verdancy Lane-won't leave the place, no matter what. You're in charge of handling it. We've set the budget at three million."

At the mention of Verdancy Lane, a sharp tremor gripped Madelyn. That was where the orphanage still stood-the only real home she'd ever known, the place shaped by the kindness of its director.

For a beat, she stood frozen in the office, memories swirling behind her composed expression.

Bryson's brow knitted in mild irritation. "What's wrong? Do you have something else to say?"

She drew in a slow, steadying breath, moved back to his desk, and struggled with her words. "Bryson, do we really have to tear down Verdancy Lane? That place is everything to me. Please-can't we spare it?"