Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

She tossed her phone aside and flopped onto the bed with a sigh. Sleep, however, was nowhere in sight. Tonight, she owed Dustin a big one; he had given her a crucial lead.

As Brielle's mind wandered through the memories of Mark, she realized the signs had always been there. Mark had been involved in all her DNA tests. During her first test with the Haywood family, Mark was right there. The second time, with the Fox family, it was Mark who delivered the results. Having been by her side for so many years, she never doubted him. But what if the Mark she met at the orphanage wasn't Mark at all? What if someone had taken over his identity? The real Mark and his wife had been locked away in a hidden room behind the archives and had perished in the fire.

An unemployed, divorced man with no ties, living on the outskirts in an orphanage, made it all too easy for someone to step into his shoes. But why? What was this imposter's motive? Just to watch her grow up?

Brielle clenched the sheets tightly as the memories from the orphanage flashed vividly-shared hardships, knitting gloves and scarves together. So when the clues pointed to Mark, the pain was unbearable. When she was hungry, Mark encouraged her. When strangers hurled insults and fists, Mark protected her. But now, reality told her it was all an act.

A bitter smile crossed her face as her heart ached with the sting of betrayal. Even his faked death was designed to leave her drowning in guilt. How much must he have hated her? One grand performance, and she had given him her whole heart, as if her entire life was a cruel joke.

A pounding headache forced Brielle to reach for painkillers from her nightstand before she finally drifted off to sleep.

jolted her awake. The man who had fallen with her had woken up and was now her responsibility-and he was in the same hospital as her. The hospital had ensured secrecy,

Patrick had told her

and Max's every move for a while. Any misstep would mean danger for those close to her.

death's door but had miraculously survived. However Annie's blade had slashed his vocat cords, leaving him mute, possibly for life. He sat up in bed, his pupils shrinking and lips

When Brielle walked in.

but she couldn't recall slicing his neck as the doctors had described. "I'm Brielle. You remember me, right?"

remained silent, his gaze

taking her time. "The cut on your neck wasn't from me. The doctors said it was a dagger. So,

finished speaking, Murray's hands clenched the blanket, knuckles white and veins bulging. His