Master of his heart

Chapter 122

“Mr. Dorsey?”

The room spun as she found herself pinned on the couch in the break room. Brielle’s mind was a blur. What on earth was Max up to?

Her eyes widened in shock and just as she attempted to rise, she was pulled back into his embrace. His breath tickled her ear, sending her heartbeat into a frenzy. She couldn’t help but lick her lips nervously.

“Mr. Dorsey, isn’t it work hours?” she managed to say.

Max chuckled, his fingers grazing her side playfully, “What do you think I want to do?”

The irritation bubbled inside Brielle. They were already on the couch, so what else could happen? Were they going to whisper sweet nothings under a cozy blanket?

Rolling her eyes inwardly, she couldn’t help but savoring the private moment.

pounding like a drum, and afraid Max would notice, she clumsily changed the

revelation. I mean, comparing the business titan like Flynn to the founder of Book might seem unfair, but I’ve seriously studied Flynn’s speeches. A founder who transcends the pursuit of money, the simplicity of ambition, the public opinion, and truly wants to do something big – he might just become invincible. That’s probably why Flynn managed to make a dent across North America. The founder of Book, even though successful for a first–timer, lacks these

family without such opportunities to rub shoulders with these giants, but with less than a month by Max’s side, her

lingered on her waist. Brielle surprised him quite a bit. He finally understood why Ryan couldn’t let her go. She was indeed talented.

Canaries were for those delicate socialites. Brielle was an eagle, yearning to conquer the blue skies. A gilded cage was never meant for her, and the small world

yet now a faint smile

smoothly made another small request. “By the way, Uncle Max, do you remember the villa worth over twenty million you gave me?” She spoke

by a light laugh, “Hmm?”

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Chapter 122

“The one you promised as a ceremonial gift when you first took over the company. I’d like to sell it, but I guess Spencer hasn’t completed the transfer procedures. Could you maybe oversee that for me?

couch, Max’s eyes now closed. His eyelashes were long, his skin perfect, his presence cool like a perfect sculpture.

reaching out to tug at his sleeve. Her fingers were caught in his, and he asked,

with the money?”