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 white

the driver hadn't rammed her yet, she surmised they were confident she wouldn't get away tonight. The certainty of those chasing her meant there was

smartest move. It bought her

and she tumbled down the hillside. Her phone

prevailed as if all sound had vanished. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and with bloodied fingertips, she reached for her phone.

"Max,"

instant, the phone slipped further down, tumbling

light of the screen fade, blinking as the echo came from far

now. It had fallen into a deep ravine left over from an old road. construction project. Going down there with her

superficially wounded, every movement made her face turn pale with pain. She

back, and

drifted through the air, tinged with regret. "Ms. Brielle, you're quite clever, but alas,

wasn't

tonight. Mrs. Barnes had also sent people. Dozens more were searching above. Even if Brielle escaped his grasp, she wouldn't get

move, recognizing the voice of the man she had

once, his demeanor had always been one of relaxed

dagger had already pierced her