Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle scrolled through the comments and noticed someone had posted a screenshot of Alivia’s latest post, featuring a black rosary bracelet wrapped around her wrist, identical to the beads Max had been seen wearing in several paparazzi shots.

Everyone seemed to be green with envy, but all Brielle could taste was the bitter tang disappointment.

of

No wonder he hadn’t replied to her texts; he was at the airport, picking up the patriarch of the Barnes family.

we’ve

With a sigh, she closed her eyes just as the cop in the front seat said, “Ms. Brielle, we‘ reached your apartment.”

Quickly regaining her composure, Brielle nodded and stepped out of the car, walking towards the building entrance in a daze, while the officers who had accompanied her lurked nearby.

As soon as Brielle exited the elevator, her front door greeted her with a mess of cigarette butts, and there sat a man on her doorstep, Spencer, reeking of booze and tobacco, a combination that turned her stomach.

His bloodshot eyes lifted to meet hers, and he staggered to his feet, slurring. “I checked out the charity, and indeed, it was your donation. Burp.”

After belching loudly, he peered at her through bleary eyes, “Lillian’s gone off the deep end. I was all set to marry her, but my mom’s had second thoughts, wants me to have another go at convincing you.

Brielle, is there any chance for us?”

Brielle couldn’t believe his nerve, flinging her door open, “Maybe you should go get your head checked at the hospital first.”

She tried to slam the door, but Spencer’s hand shot out, bracing against it.

Without hesitation, Brielle pushed back–hard.

“Bang!”

She expected him to recoil, but he didn’t, wincing as his hand visibly swelled.

A pang of regret hit her, and she pulled the door open, “What the hell do you want, Spencer? Our engagement is off. I’m not playing house with you.”

Spencer’s eyes were bloodshot, and he couldn’t help but grab her hand. He had no idea what he was doing, thinking it was all a dream. Even in his dreams, Brielle was so heartless.

Blind with frustration, he barged in, pinning her against the wall..

Brielle felt her insides jolt, and instinctively, her foot shot out into his stomach.

Spencer doubled over, his face turning a shade paler with pain.

The agony snapped him back to reality, and he looked around, realizing this was Brielle’s room. He remembered coming to Brielle’s apartment, feeling upset, so he smoked a few extra

cigarettes.

“Bri.”

He called out, staggering to his feet and lunging forward, collapsing both of them onto the couch.

Before Brielle could react, the sound of camera shutters filled the air from the doorway.

“Click–click!”

Caught in this compromising position, they were snapped in a series of shots.

Brielle shoved Spencer away, ready to chase the paparazzi hiding in the shadows, b

ut Spencer wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. “The stuff I said at the party, all nonsense. I’m sorry.”

Tears rimmed his eyes as he bit his lip. “I apologize.”

Shaking with fury, Brielle wondered who had sent the photographer. What was the angle? Did the gossip from the Haywood family’s party leak, and now the media was prying into high. society secrets, tailing Spencer for some juicy scandal?

Teeth clenched, her heart pounding, she pointed to the door, “Get out.”

Silent, Spencer felt humiliated. He had apologized, wasn’t that enough?

“Brielle, 1-”

“I said leave. You better find that photographer and stop those photos from going viral. I refuse to be tabloid fodder with you.”

Lips pressed into a thin line, Spencer’s eyes danced with resentment.

Sharing the news with him was that shameful?

His cheek burned with both pain and embarrassment.

Dizzily, he staggered out, and at the building entrance, the photographer approached, handing over the camera with deference.

“Mr. Spencer, are these shots to your liking? Should I splash them across the front page?” Content is © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

So, it was Spencer who had planned this.

A satisfied smile curled his lips as he reviewed the images capturing Brielle beneath him, artfully taken.

“Publish these,” he instructed, his voice cold, “I will transfer the payment later. Send these photos to a few groups, and spin it as an old flame rekindling.”