Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 12

But by 10 p.m., Brielle hadn’t sent a message. Spencer felt uneasy, as if something was slipping out of control. Yet, thinking of the Haywoods’ attitude towards him, which was like they’d gladly gift-wrap Brielle and deliver her to his bed, a flicker of relief crossed his eyes. After all, Brielle would have to give in eventually.

Brielle packed her belongings, printed her resignation letter, and left it on her desk. Then, with a box in her arms, she descended to the lobby.

No sooner had she steadied herself than a blinding light shone on her. She raised her hand to shield her eyes and turned to see a familiar license plate.

Her first thought was whether this man wanted her again. After all, there was hardly any other reason he would seek her out.

The car slowly approached and came to a halt The door opened. Brielle, still clutching the box, bent down to peer inside and, sure enough, saw the man in a suit, looking a

ras dazzling as a painting but just too cold.

“Uncle Max,” she called out without any intention of joining him. She really wasn’t in the mood tonight.

Max’s fingertips lightly played with the rosary on his wrist, his demeanor indifferent. After a long pause, he softly commanded, “Get in.”

“If I do, with Uncle Max’s stamina, I’m sure I won’t be able to leave.” She held the box earnestly.

Brielle intended to create a promiscuous persona around Max. It’d be better to keep their entanglements strictly to the bedroom. Otherwise, she feared she might one day fall too deep.

One Spencer was already draining enough, and Max clearly played in a different league.

was her first time when they slept together. He simply didn’t care. Adults all knew the rules; it

a slight smirk tugging at his lips because of her words. His gaze dropped to the box in her arms.

held was too conspicuous to

together. There was no point in feigning

anyway, she might as well continue setting a timebomb here with Max. She hoped when the bomb

1/2

Chapter 12

so many ventures-can you handle them all? There’s so

chin between his fingers, sensing the subtext

Spencer and the other directors built it specifically for new product development. It cost a fortune. You probably didn’t receive the approval contract overseas because they split the

departmental affairs meant she

company’s public accounts on his first day, but the directors’ petty theft was just a drop in the bucket

to that building. The entrance boasts an antique 18th-century screen and a set of vintage vases. Every chair is a peach wood piece from the French Empire era, beside Empire-style display cabinets adorned with British enamel tableware. The floors covered with $50,000 Persian carpets. For a research building, why

are

up and instructing someone in front, “Investigate this.” The billion-dollar building, supposedly a research center, was probably just a playground for those directors. It

curved in satisfaction. Once the building’s secrets were exposed, Spencer would be

party there every Friday. Spencer calls it the ‘Friday Night Decadence Club.’ You should raid it then.

for her apology, right? Ha. She’d use Max to dismantle his

waist before addressing Patrick, “Did

nodded respectfully and made several phone calls

a tingling sensation like small currents burrowing through her pores. “What reward would you like?” His

“A reward?”