Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle felt like she was running out of air as if someone had a vice-like grip around her throat.

Max didn't seem angry with her. He was just stating a fact, but it still sent a shiver down her spine.

She even wanted to bolt, to find a quiet corner somewhere to catch her breath.

"Brielle, if you're feeling wiped, you should head back and hit the hay," Max suggested.

Before she could muster a response, he spoke up. The subtext was clear: they both needed a moment to cool their jets.

Brielle stood up, her body stiff as a board. She wanted to say a million things, but what would they be?

Could she convince Max of her innocence?

She put herself in Max's shoes and knew her words must have crossed a line for him.

Now, Max seemed set on taking down the Fox family, working overtime to find something, anything to prove she wasn't one of them - all to extricate her from this mess. Meanwhile, Brielle was busy making excuses for James. No wonder Max was steamed. Neither of them was at fault. It was always the same tragic tune - whenever they hit a snag, it turned out nobody was to blame.

Without another word, Brielle left the place. It felt like her feet were encased in lead, and it felt as if she was hauling a ton with every step.

Patrick was waiting for her outside, and seeing her out of sorts, he took the initiative to drive her back to the Premier Palace.

all the way

was about to step out of the car, Patrick briefed her. "Ms. Brielle, you should take it easy for the next few days. Mr. Max has been

felt utterly drained, clueless

Based on what she'd heard from Max,

onto the couch, Brielle felt utterly

if she had no ties to the Fox family, James was still paying

way to clear James' name yet, was Brielle supposed to let him take the

tears. She was always the type to tackle

gold had suffered

sher

laughable. If she claimed James had a heart of gold, who would buy that? He was a guy

had never set foot in

passively accepted everything laid out for her, she wouldn't really be herself,

lashes drooped as Wesley inquired. "Ms. Brielle, you seem down. How about I whip up

you, Wesley, I don't feel

about James, she had

to see the places where he collected his dues. So, she picked herself up and headed to the street

pot of society, but the street was clean. Despite the crowded

Brielle asked about James, the shopkeepers were eager to

he's a big