Master of his heart

Chapter 82

As Lillian turned away, a sly smile curled the corners of her lips. She hadn’t anticipated such a lucky break.

The marks on Brielle’s neck certainly weren’t from Spencer. After all, he had been tied up in his own troubles these past few days. It seemed Brielle had indeed been rolling in the hay with some unsavory characters.

At this moment, Lillian felt on top of the world, as though even the gods were conspiring in her favor. With Brielle tarnished in such a way, who would want her now? Especially since she was on the verge of crossing the Rowlands and the Hatfields.

Unable to contain her glee, Lillian stealthily pulled out her phone and texted Sophia. [Sweetie, sorry, I can’t help you this time. I tried to get the Haywoods to come, but Brielle’s stubborn as a mule. Now Miranda’s fainted from the stress, and I need to dash to the hospital. What’s your game plan?]

Sophia was deeply touched by the message. Compared to the troublemaker Emily, Lillian was practically an angel. [I guess I have no choice but to turn to Tessa, hoping she can get Andrew to step in. Lillian, you’ve been a lifesaver. Is Miranda okay?]

Lillian didn’t reply immediately, deliberately waiting a good fifteen minutes before responding. [Not sure yet, gotta go. Ugh, Bri’s really not giving an inch this time.]

Seeing Brielle’s name, Sophia felt her eyes burn with rage. Indeed, that bitch! Despite everyone’s pleas, she hadn’t budged an inch.

Sophia sneered, vowing that once she got through this ordeal, she’d find someone even tougher to take Brielle down a peg. Next time, it wouldn’t just be rumors. She’d have a video of Brielle’s escapades spread all over Beaconsfield. Then she’d see how that hussy would have the gall to stick around.

with plans for revenge, panic was setting in. The police were knocking at

already sent word to Tessa. Though not the favorite of the Rowlands, her frequent visits to Tessa would surely pay off.

the police station fell into an awkward silence with

the cold wall, sweat beading on her forehead. Exhausted, she longed

behind the scenes. This was her chance

fluttered, her fingers weakly curled, then relaxed. Her

quietly with her eyes closed. She knew that many people at the scene were eyeing her neck, thinking she was promiscuous

who was handcuffed also took the opportunity to mumble a few words. “You sure get around, don’t you? Can’t blame folks for wanting to

words dripped with scorn, his gaze trying to pierce

a chill rising from her feet and spreading through her body, making her lips

a

what do we owe the

forced her eyes open, but could only make out a

was like a beacon of light, radiating warmth as