Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 5

Faith’s tone was icy, her words dripping with disdain as though Brielle was beneath her notice. Brielle knew that if she didn’t take action, the next call would be to the Haywoods, and then her parents would be on the line, lecturing her on her lack of charm and tact.

She was tired of being a puppet on strings. After hanging up, she texted Faith the address of the suburban mansion, Spencer’s little love nest. If Faith cared to dig, she would discover her son’s mistress.

Brielle also wondered if Faith already knew about Spencer and Lillian’s affair, which would explain her increasingly imperious attitude. Not only did Faith expect her to play the dutiful daughter-in-law within the Dorsey clan, but she also expected her to handle Spencer’s business affairs. Talk about making the most of her assets.

When Brielle arrived at Dorsey Tower and pushed open the office door, she found the entire floor eerily silent.

Everyone sat up straight, casting anxious glances toward the elevators. Whispers echoed through the cubicles.

“All the execs got called up for a meeting. Word is Mr. Dorsey’s not staying abroad this time.”

“The Wall Street Journal had a feature on him just the other day-Harvard wunderkind.”

“Looks like a shake-up at Dorsey International.”

At her desk, Brielle thought of the man who had left her bed that morning, now presiding over the top floor, and the corner of her mouth twitched with amusement.

He was sexy in bed, and just as much so in a suit and tie.

She had barely sat down when a tap on her shoulder made her turn. “Why’s the director not here? If he skips the exec meeting, our department’s going to be in the crosshairs, right?”

coworker Lucinda, the only one who knew

clipped on her

appeared in Lucinda’s eyes, followed by a deeply hidden disdain. “Isn’t he your fiancé? Really?

her sleeve, but

However, in a company like Dorsey International, you could randomly throw

Chapter 5

the director with another woman at the mall last week. Don’t tell me you

sighed and organized her

Spencer emerged, suave in a grey suit. Hel quickly straightened his tie and

handed him the

private elevator, “You’re coming to the meeting with me.” She had prepared the

atmosphere on the top floor was tense, the senior executives

met the cold gaze

the main seat was a large French window. Max sat there, like

was silent, the directors

pressed her lips together in a small

pale-faced, found a seat,

A file hit the table, filled with countless receipts of personal expenses-luxury cars,

eyes swept over everyone, finally

pounded with regret for arriving late and being the focus of scrutiny. The suburban villa was for Lillian, charged to

the marble table, For

but with many Dorseys present, he couldn’t admit

“For my fiancée.”