Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 848

What's the deal between Annie and Mr. Lynch?

Brielle stood up but then slowly sank back into her chair, her eyes fixed on the scene across the room. Her face bore an uncanny resemblance to Annie's, and Annie seemed to be on familiar terms with everyone around, suggesting this wasn't her first time hanging out with Raymond.

Brielle felt like a giant conspiracy was unfolding, trapping every member of the Lynch family. She had come here to meet Owen, so she scanned the sea of faces for him. If Annie was connected to the people pulling the strings, then Brielle couldn't risk introducing herself to Raymond tonight. Doing so could arouse suspicion, ruining the diversion she had created a few days ago, and possibly putting her in danger abroad. Safety first.

So she found a more secluded spot, feeling a bit uneasy, and took a sip of whiskey, her gaze settling on the amber liquid in her glass. She should have seen it coming if someone as cautious as Dustin could be betrayed, it had to be by someone he deeply trusted. The forces targeting Infinity Brilliance had infiltrated every nook and cranny of the Lynch family, a family that had lost a child over twenty years ago. What about now, two decades later?

The adversary was too shrewd to take down the Lynch family all at once. Instead, they nibbled away at the family's defenses bit by bit. This plan had been brewing for at least twenty years, probably rooted in some old grudges.

Brielle thought she might need to dig into the love and hate from Owen's time.

the entire time, as if guarding against someone. That meant Brielle couldn't approach. From

Tomorrow, she had to visit Desiree at the sanatorium. Even

Raymond was surrounded by

all there to

on his return to the public

his face as he sipped his champagne, his lips curling slightly before finishing his

Brielle, dressed in her gown, stepped outside. The breeze seemed to dissipate the scent of alcohol clinging to her. Lost in solitude, she reached the roadside, her isolation starkagainst the lively mansion in the distance. Luxury cars lined the curb, making it tough to hail a cab. She would

ים.

with a black fascinator concealing the upper half of her face. Unless someone got close, no one could tell who she was. It was a popular style abroad, and with her poise,

to sober up, but a car stopped in

"Ms. Brielle?"

uncertainty. Brielle looked up, glancing at him. The window