Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 584

In the wee hours of the morning, around 3 a.m., the doctor came looking for Max with news that Martha had refused further medication.

Max slowly lifted his head, his tone steady. “Inject her with a sedative.”

The doctor hesitated. “But Ms. Martha is quite resistant. About sedatives, we need her consent.”

“Then slip the medication into her food. Make her sleep through it.”

Reluctantly, the doctor nodded and passed the message to the rest of the staff.

Since Alivia had her people in the sanatorium, she quickly learned of these developments. She hadn’t expected Max to be so forceful, to actually lace his mother’s food with sleeping agents. A flicker of spite crossed her eyes, and her lips curled in a smirk.

“Tomorrow morning, when you’re tending to Martha, let slip this little tidbit. But be discreet. Just pretend you’re chatting and make sure she overhears.”

“Understood, Ms. Alivia. You can count on us to carry out the task.”

After hanging up, Alivia snorted. This way, Max’s trick would be useless. Martha would probably refuse to eat altogether, standing her ground against him.

treat her like this, she’d

sneezed, feeling the indelible humiliation in the bathroom

Brielle arrived early at

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reveling in schadenfreude, said, “Ms. Haywood, I heard that several executives made a beeline for Dorsey International this morning, probably to

a flicker of confusion

his secret mission to monitor Brielle’s every move, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of irritation toward her, wishing for her swift

Dorsey International. By now, they were likely

those guys went straight to Max, the CEO, which spelled trouble. Everyone knew Max was a hard man; if he got wind of Brielle’s actions,

with her looks from the get–go. He’d been around the block in showbiz, but her face was the one that haunted him–the cool elegance of a lily, making one wonder what she’d look like

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Chapter 584

were to be fired, especially by the CEO of Dorsey International, the fallout would be immense. Her career prospects would dim, and then, with a little favor from him, perhaps she’d be groveling for mercy under

a call from Dorsey International any minute now, inviting you over in person. Of all the people they sent over, you’re the only one they’re

reached for some documents nearby. “After the cuts to

witch! That call from Dorsey International would