Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

When she saw the number dialing out, she froze for a moment but didn't hang up.

She recalled the spat she'd had with Max, their communication severed by someone else's doing. The text message that came through from Aubree wasn't really Aubree. Then, it meant someone had hijacked Aubree's phone. It's the top-tier hacker Patrick had mentioned.

It seemed she had wrongfully accused Andrew last time. Maybe Andrew had indeed infected her phone with a virus, but he hadn't tried to control it.

Brielle heard a voice on the other end, but it wasn't Max's - just a jumble of noises.

She was about to speak when she felt her car falter once more. She was a long way from Pearl Estate and even farther from the bustling city center.

She and Aubree had managed to avoid being sandwiched by two cars last time, but now one of her tires had blown, making a strange noise. If the car behind kept up the chase, she would be forced to stop sooner or later. She had to save herself.

At least until Max arrived, she had to save herself.

She floored the gas pedal and glanced in the rearview mirror. Only one car was in pursuit.

With an almost robotic decisiveness, Brielle stopped the car, abandoned it, grabbed her phone, and dashed into the dense woods nearby.

The stretch of road was well-landscaped, connecting to the largest mountain in Beaconsfield. Now, under the cover of night, she could use the foliage for cover, buying herself time.

forming

she surmised they were confident she wouldn't get away tonight. The certainty of those chasing her

the car was the smartest move. It bought

unstable rock, and she tumbled down the hillside. Her phone fell to one side. She struggled to reach for it, her body wracked with

beaded on her forehead, and with bloodied fingertips, she reached for her phone. Her eyes quivered, seeing that the call was

"Max,"

next instant, the phone slipped

could only watch the light of the screen fade, blinking as the echo came

had fallen into a deep ravine left

different direction. Though only superficially wounded, every movement made her face turn pale with pain. She stopped to catch her breath, sweat streaming

back, and she tensed up, swallowing

voice drifted through the air, tinged with regret. "Ms. Brielle, you're quite clever, but alas, your cleverness has brought

all, it wasn't

people. Dozens more were searching above. Even if Brielle escaped his grasp, she wouldn't get away from the hands

the voice of the

managed to slip away from him once, his demeanor had always been one of

a dagger had already pierced her clothing and was