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.

together. He simply didn’t

his lips because of her words. His gaze dropped to the box in her arms. His cool fingertips clasped her wrist and forcefully pulled

job?” The box she held was too conspicuous to

didn’t struggle and leaned into his embrace. They’d slept together. There was no point in feigning modesty now. “Yeah, I’ve

timebomb here with Max.

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Chapter 12

has so many ventures-can you handle

chin between his fingers, sensing the

product development. It cost a fortune. You probably didn’t receive the approval contract overseas because they split the total investment into

in departmental affairs meant she knew all

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

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

are

quietly for a while before looking 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 was

the building’s secrets were exposed, Spencer would

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

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

before addressing Patrick, “Did you hear

respectfully and made several phone calls

her pores. “What reward

“A reward?”