Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Sydney was clueless about Spencer’s plans, but the sight of an extra two million in her account made her lips curl into a smile. Her heart had been thoroughly corroded by wealth, rusted, and stripped of its original color.

Yet, people seldom realized their own downfall.

Clutching the documents, Sydney waited for Spencer in the underground parking lot of Dorsey International. Soon enough, Spencer rolled up in his multimillion–dollar sports car.

Sydney had seen luxe rides before, but this was her first time sitting in one. As the sleek vehicle pulled up in front of her, her heart rate soared, pounding with excitement.

Spencer, however, barely gave her a glance. His voice was chilly as he commanded, “Get in.”

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Sydney chafed at the cold treatment. When Spencer had been desperate for her, he urgent and warm. NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.

That’s right. Back then, he thought Sydney was Brielle. All that tenderness was for Brielle. But it was Sydney who had slept with him, not Brielle.

Sydney suppressed her inner resentment. Everyone has a tendency to compare, especially women, and this comparison can become more intense in certain areas. This wasn’t a slight against women; it was just like saying women cared more about appearances than men–it was stating a fact.

Sydney slid into the car, instantly enveloped by the sensation of being surrounded by riches. It was a comfort, like stepping into paradise for a moment.

If something were to happen between her and Spencer in this car, would she become the heroine of those romance novels? The thought made Sydney’s heart race even more.

She sneaked a peek at Spencer, but his eyes were dark, showing no hint of such intentions. Sydney felt a wave of shame and even indignation. Was she truly so unappealing?

Unable to resist, she reached out, her hand boldly suggesting her desire. But Spencer was resolutely indifferent, preoccupied with how to deal with Brielle’s pregnancy. His warning was icy. “Get your hand away from me!”

Sydney felt the sting of humiliation as if her last shred of dignity had been stripped away. Her body flushed with heat. She knew his mind was on Brielle, so what was she even doing? It was nothing short of self–humiliation.

“Mr. Spencer, I didn’t mean to, I apologize.”

“Ha, don’t think you’re special just because I’ve been with you once. There have been many before you. If you weren’t Brielle’s assistant, I wouldn’t give you a second look, got that?”

Sydney’s nails dug into her palms. Was this the stark difference between men’s behavior in bed and out? Damn it, it all came back to Brielle. Because of Brielle, Sydney was subjected to this

shame!

Sydney inhaled deeply, managing a thin smile. “I understand. I overstepped.”

Money was more important, and without a doubt, if this man couldn’t have Brielle, he would eventually come looking for Sydney.

As Sydney lowered her gaze, she had to admit that the Dorsey family had astonishingly good looks. After being with Spencer twice, her own plain–Jane boyfriend seemed utterly bland. Their life together was like a still pond, utterly lacking in ripples.

Spencer might’ve been a brute, but he had introduced her to a world of thrilling indulgence.

When the car passed a popular diner, Sydney hopped out to grab soup and some light side dishes–just as Brielle had requested.

Once back in the car, she watched Spencer take out a small vial containing a liquid. He unscrewed the cap and poured the substance into the soup. The clear liquid blended seamlessly with the soup, leaving only its appetizing aroma, nothing else detectable.

Though not a fan of Brielle, Sydney wasn’t looking to make a killer move. “Mr. Spencer, you’re not trying to poison Brielle, are you?”

Spencer looked up, and his face twisted in a manic grin. “Of course not. It’s just a little

something to make her more… compliant. Pretend you know nothing, but make sure she eats it all. Call me when she passes out.”