Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

The sky was darkening, and the number of cars on the streets was increasing.

Brielle knew Lillian all too well. After the ordeal at the orphanage last night, she must have been clinging onto Spencer, pouring her woes into his willing ears, and likely showing off her bedroom prowess. This was prime time to catch them in the act.

Tiffanie’s eyes were sparkling with determination as she patted Brielle’s shoulder with sincere gratitude. “You’re a real pal, Brielle. Let’s do this. Lead the way, and I’ll drive us there right now.”

Brielle set the navigation for the suburban villa while Tiffanie asked if they should call a locksmith.

“No need, the code’s definitely Lillian’s birthday.”

Tiffanie, seeing Brielle’s confident reply, realized she must have been there before and felt a pang of sympathy. The sight that Brielle had seen at the villa wouldn’t be easy on her heart.

Flooring the gas pedal, Tiffanie had them parked outside the villa within twenty minutes. Brielle glanced at the lights glowing inside the villa and let out a cold laugh before heading straight to the front door. She punched in Lillian’s birthday, and the door swung open. Tiffanie, flushed with excitement, had her phone out, ready to start recording.

Upstairs, as suspected, Lillian’s voice echoed through the hallway. Pleasure and pain intermingled in her tone, eerily reminiscent of the first time Brielle stumbled upon their tryst. The difference now was Brielle’s mood.

She stopped outside the largest bedroom. The door to the master bedroom was ajar, and Spencer’s voice was full of eagerness, “Lillian, your waist is still so slender.”

“Spencer, you promised you’d terminate your engagement to Brielle within two months, didn’t you?” Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Of course, she can’t hold a candle to you.”

Brielle found their conversation amusing. It was far more restrained than what she had heard the first time, which had been a deliberately orchestrated farce by Lillian, designed to elicit Spencer’s criticisms of Brielle – calling her a dull piece of wood, a robot.

The last line of what she had heard was etched in Brielle’s memory and still made her sick.

-Lillian, you’re so much more slutty.

Back then, Brielle had cherished Lillian like a sister, never suspecting her true nature.

Shaking off the memories, Brielle pushed the door open. Simultaneously, Tiffanie started recording the scandalous scene while snapping several photos.

Lillian, sensing the intrusion, let out a near–scream, grabbing the bedsheet to cover herself.

Spencer frowned, his voice tight with discomfort, “Brielle! What are you doing here?”

Then, seeing Tiffanie with her phone, his indignation peaked, “Tiffanie, did you get that on video?”

Tiffanie blinked innocently and hid behind Brielle, whispering, “While he’s still undressed and wouldn’t dare to chase us, let’s run quickly. The two of us can’t beat him alone. I’ve already posted the video in the group, and there are also their uncensored photos.”

Brielle didn’t expect Tiffanie to be so quick. She chuckled. Tiffanie was a waste not being a

paparazzo.

Watching the disheveled and embarrassed pair, Brielle said, “Spencer, this villa is mine. Do 1 need to remind you again? Take your mistress and get out.”

Spencer’s scalp tingled with fury. He hadn’t expected Brielle to confront him personally. But indeed, the villa was hers, and Max had already warned him. He dare not say more.

His lips pressed together, a spark of thought crossed his mind. Was Brielle jealous, fighting so

hard for the villa?

He was from a good family, attractive, fit, and they’d known each other for years. It made no sense for Brielle not to like him. Maybe her indifference was all an act. Perhaps she even cried

over him.

With this in mind, Spencer’s heart softened briefly, “Brielle, stop making a scene. It’s normal for a man to have a woman on the side. The more you fuss, the more you stand to lose.”

If only she would beg him, he could reconsider ending the engagement. If she became more approachable and likable and turned a blind eye to his affairs, he wasn’t averse to marrying

her.

“Spencer, are you deaf? Move out tonight with Lillian, and transfer the proceeds from the villa sale to my account tomorrow.”

Her tone was icy. The look she gave Spencer was one of undisguised disgust, mirroring how he saw her. It was Spencer who had always hurt her, but now that the tables were turned, he found the pain unbearable.

His heart felt slashed open, which was an odd sensation. Why should he care so much about Brielle’s contempt?