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.

never asked if it was her first time when they slept together. He simply didn’t care. Adults

of her words. His gaze dropped to the box in her arms. His cool

your job?” The box she held was too conspicuous to

There was no point in feigning modesty now. “Yeah, I’ve been cast aside after

she was resigning anyway, she might as well continue setting a timebomb here with Max. She hoped when the bomb exploded, Spencer would

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Chapter 12

Max, Dorsey International has so many ventures-can you handle them

caught her chin between his fingers, sensing the subtext in her

specifically for new product development. It cost a fortune. You probably didn’t receive the approval contract

departmental affairs meant she

had mentioned the company’s public accounts on his first day, but the directors’ petty theft was

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

are

while before looking up and instructing someone in front, “Investigate this.” The

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

the ‘Friday Night Decadence Club.’ You should raid it

waiting for her apology, right? Ha. She’d use

her waist before

and made several phone

chilly fingertips touching her skin sent a tingling sensation like small currents burrowing through her pores. “What reward would you like?” His voice, always cool and indifferent, somehow

“A reward?”