Master of his heart

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

But by 10 p.m., Brielle hadn’t sent a message. Spencer felt uneasy, as if something was slipping out of control. Yet, thinking of the Haywoods’ attitude towards him, which was like they’d gladly gift-wrap Brielle and deliver her to his bed, a flicker of relief crossed his eyes. After all, Brielle would have to give in eventually.

Brielle packed her belongings, printed her resignation letter, and left it on her desk. Then, with a box in her arms, she descended to the lobby.

No sooner had she steadied herself than a blinding light shone on her. She raised her hand to shield her eyes and turned to see a familiar license plate.

Her first thought was whether this man wanted her again. After all, there was hardly any other reason he would seek her out.

The car slowly approached and came to a halt The door opened. Brielle, still clutching the box, bent down to peer inside and, sure enough, saw the man in a suit, looking a

ras dazzling as a painting but just too cold.

“Uncle Max,” she called out without any intention of joining him. She really wasn’t in the mood tonight.

Max’s fingertips lightly played with the rosary on his wrist, his demeanor indifferent. After a long pause, he softly commanded, “Get in.”

Max’s stamina, I’m sure I won’t be

their entanglements strictly to the bedroom. Otherwise, she feared she might one day

draining enough, and

slept together. He simply didn’t care. Adults all knew the

at his lips because of her words. His gaze dropped to

held

and leaned into his embrace. They’d slept together. There was no point in feigning modesty now.

well continue setting a timebomb here with Max. She hoped when the bomb

1/2

Chapter 12

many ventures-can you handle them all? There’s so much opportunity

sensing the subtext

you noticed the building not far from Dorsey International? Spencer and the other directors built it specifically for new product development. It cost a fortune. You probably didn’t receive the approval contract overseas because they split the total investment into smaller amounts, each just under the threshold that would require your personal approval.

departmental affairs meant

company’s public accounts on his first day, but the directors’ petty theft was just a drop

French Empire era, beside Empire-style display cabinets adorned with British enamel

are

instructing someone in front, “Investigate this.” The billion-dollar

would be in for it. Her gloominess

Spencer calls it the ‘Friday Night

Ha. She’d use

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