Chapter 4
Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)
How the tables had turned.
Satisfied, Brielle sat back, not caring whether she had dampened his suit or not.-
The ride to Premier Palace was wrapped in a comfortable silence, as if by unspoken agreement, and neither of them felt the need to engage in idle conversation.
Brielle knew that Maxâs attentiveness wasnât due to pity or a flutter of the heart. He was predator at the top of the food chain, having made his mark on Wall Street at the tender age of seventeen, orchestrating the biggest corporate merger of the year. His rise to fame was built on the ruins of his rivals. A man like him, she mused, didnât have a heart to spare.
A chill ran through her, and she sneezed uncontrollably. A clean blanket was tossed her way. Looking up, she saw him engrossed in papers on his lap, not sparing her a glance.
âThanks, Uncle Max,â she said, grabbing the blanket and drying her damp hair.
As the wrought iron gates of Premier Palace slowly swung open, even Brielle, no stranger to grandeur, couldnât help but be captivated by the opulence within.
The car came to a halt at the villaâs entrance, and Patrick stepped out to respectfully open the door for them.
The cold air hit Brielle as she stepped out, causing goosebumps to spread across her skin. She rushed to keep up with Max, a smirk playing on her lips. âAm I the first woman to set foot in here?â
Max paused, and Brielle nearly bumped into him. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he gestured toward a maid trimming hedges in the distance. âNo.â
âThen I must be the first woman to make it to your bed successfully, right?â
Her chin was lifted by his firm grip, forcing her to meet his gaze. Panic fluttered in her chest. She had initiated this game, but the ending wasnât hers to dictate.
âYes,â he answered simply.
Brielle was at a loss for words, her mind momentarily adrift. By the time she collected herself, Max had walked away. She took a deep breath and bit her lip before catching up to him, her voice light and carefree. âSo, Uncle Max, you gonna look out for me from now on?â
Entering the villaâs grand hall, he loosened the tie around his neck. The rosary beads glinted darkly.
âDepends on how you behave.â
She took that as a sign of a potential long-term arrangement. Brielle thought of Spencer, and that tiny bit of regret instantly disappeared.
Spencer found her dull, his mother Faith thought her restrained, and the Haywood family believed her to be demure. They were all wrong. She was wild at heart.
âDonât worry, Uncle Max. Iâll take good care of you.â
Max raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes indifferent. He casually unbuttoned his shirt, scooping her up in his arms. âUntil I tire of you âYou donât mind that Iâm a dead fish in bed?â She was still holding a grudge over their earlier encounter.
Maxâs master bedroom was dark as he pinned her against the door. âNo complaints. You just lie back and enjoy.â
Brielle was thankful for her striking looks, but before she could ponder any further, she was swept up in lust once again.
Their bodies were close, their souls drifting apart. She knew too well that Max was an extreme, a madness that could devour everything.
Falling for Spencer, she could walk away unscathed. Falling for Max would be a catastrophe, a point of no return.
After another night at Premier Palace, Brielle returned to her apartment to freshen up before heading to the office.
Her phone was bombarded with missed calls-some from the Haywood family, others from Spencerâs mother, Faith.
Last nightâs dinner party, spoiled by Maxâs absence, had obviously been a debacle. As the prospective daughter-in-law, her no-show was a breach of etiquette.
She dialed Faith, but before she could utter a word, the womanâs interrogation began.
âI asked you to keep an eye on Spencer. I heard he hasnât shown up at the office for weeks. Brielle, what have you been doing?â
Standing outside the towering Dorsey Tower, Brielle looked up at the skyscraper piercing the sky.
âFaith, he wonât take my calls.â
âThen why donât you go find him? I thought you were smart, Brielle. I placed you in Dorsey International to watch over him. Now that Max is back, the companyâs bound to face turmoil. As a finance graduate from Beaconsfield College, you should understand what that means.â
Max had rarely been at the helm of Dorsey International, preferring to pull strings from abroad. Even so, the companyâs performance had soared under his leadership, with stocks skyrocketing.
Now that he had returned, the slackers at Dorsey International were understandably unsettled.
âThink about it, Brielle. If you canât handle this, then perhaps this marriage arrangement isnât necessary.â