Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle gripped the steering wheel, her fingers barely registering the cool leather as a wave of unspeakable exhaustion washed over her.

She didn't hit the gas right away, not until the impatient blare of a horn from behind spurred her into motion, and she slowly pulled out into the street.

She was on her way to Dorsey International as she got off work early today and wanted to visit Dorsey International.

But halfway there, she spotted Annie, arms laden with files, hustling toward Dorsey International. Annie was multitasking, chatting on a phone call without watching her step, which led to an unfortunate tumble, files scattering like leaves in a gust of wind. The sidewalk was awash with people in a hurry, too wrapped up in their own worlds to lend a hand.

Brielle couldn't just drive on by, so she pulled over and swung open her car door.

Annie, still on the call, was gathering her papers when she caught sight of Brielle and exclaimed in surprise, "Ms. Brielle."

Brielle squatted down to help, gathering the sheets of paper. "Why didn't you grab a cab?" She handed the papers back and gestured toward her car. "If you're heading to Dorsey International, I can give you a lift."

"Thank you, Ms. Brielle," Annie said as she climbed into Brielle's car, only then noticing that it was the same vehicle Patrick had driven just a few days ago. Her eyebrows arched momentarily, but she didn't inquire further.

As Brielle drove, she stole glances at Annie through the rearview mirror. Brielle did harbor suspicions, but she lacked concrete evidence.

The night she'd gotten drunk with Kenzo, her memory was patchy, leaving her uncertain if the clues in her mind were real.

of any such notion, and Max was not one to lie. He'd stood too long in his

way, Annie was suspect. This woman, with her uncanny resemblance to Brielle, right down to her

intention was to sow discord between her and Max, there would likely be more maneuvers

Brielle to break the ice. She had prepared a script to plant seeds of

surprise, Brielle said

the entire trip. When they

said was, "We're here. Time to hop out."

novel sense of being outplayed. Usually, she was the one outmaneuvering

mood darkened, though her face remained composed. "Thank you, Ms.

fingertips drumming on

entered the

to pop a piece of candy into her mouth-a comfort when upset but the elevator reached the top floor too quickly. Here, she had to emulate Brielle, allowing

didn't indulge in

unwrapped

Brielle reached the top floor

if her recent silent treatment

one to let misunderstandings linger, so she approached Patrick with a gentle tone. "Patrick, can we