Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 347

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Chapter 347

The carer deliberately slowed her speech, making it sound a tad syrupy.

Brielle’s momentarily stalled brain clicked into gear. “I’m Mr. Dorsey’s employee. I need to

discuss something with him.”

“Oh, is that so?”

A flicker of disdain passed through the carer’s eyes. Was this one of those assistants who

used the guise of reporting to Mr. Dorsey as a ploy to flirt? And with that pleasing voice,

the possibility seemed even more likely.

“Max is aware of the situation already.” she stated dismissively and hung up, placing

Max’s phone back in its spot.

No sooner had she done this than the door swung open, and Max stood in the doorway, his

gaze turning icy and piercing. “What are you doing at my desk?”

His computer had a privacy screen, and all the folders were locked. There had been

attempts to steal company secrets before, but none had succeeded. So the instant he saw

someone near his computer, he was on alert.

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The carer’s cheeks flushed instantly. “Max, about the health checkup I mentioned…”

Her shy and coy demeanor did nothing to stir Max; instead, he addressed someone behind

him, “Get someone else to take care of my mother, she’s too noisy.”

The carer’s face froze, thinking she must have misheard. She was attractive, and whether

at work or out and about, men often ogled her figure. But Max had never given her a

second glance, and even labeled her intentionally soft tone as ‘noisy.”

Her face turned crimson, a sense of defeat like she had never felt before washing over her.

Max approached, frowning as her perfume assailed his nostrils. Just as he reached for his

phone, his fingers paused. “Did you touch my phone?” He always placed his phone about

six inches from the edge of the desk, but now it seemed closer to eight.

The carer’s face grew even more uncomfortable. Hadn’t she placed it exactly where it was

before? And surely Max hadn’t had time to check the surveillance footage. She had even

gone. as far as to delete the call log. How could he know?

Her heart pounded erratically, but she feigned innocence. “I didn’t.”

Martha was sound asleep; her mental state hadn’t been great, and a sedative meant not

even thunder could wake her, leaving her unable to corroborate any story.

Max’s expression turned to stone, his aura sharp as a knife’s edge.

The carer’s eyes darted about as she slowly began to peel off her clothes. “Max, I’ve

fancied you from the moment I first saw you.”

15:14

Chapter 347

Before she could react, Max whipped out a handkerchief, which he swiftly tied around her

wrists. With a firm tug, she was pulled out of the room. She didn’t land on her feet, her

clothes were disheveled, and she found herself sitting on the floor.

The door slammed shut with a loud “bang.”

The carer clutched her blouse, and her face turned pale. She heard the click of high heels

approaching. Shortly after, Alivia, a woman she often saw around, appeared before her.

Just by looking at the carer’s disarray, Alivia knew what had gone down. Alivia’s eyes were

ruthless as her heel bore down onto the carer’s hand.

The woman nearly screamed from the pain but heard Alivia’s cold voice, “Make a sound,

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and I’ll ruin that pretty face of yours.”

The last bit of color drained from the carer’s face as she trembled, silent.

Alivia leaned in, her gaze fleetingly cold as she smirked. “Coveting what belongs to others

is punishable. Now scram.”

Tears streamed down the carer’s cheeks as she clutched her blouse, attempting to stand.

But Alivia sneered, “I said strip and get out of here.”

“Ms. Alivia, I… I’m sorry.” She knew of Alivia’s renown; everyone at the sanitarium treated

her with the utmost respect, and her research institute held a global standing.

“I won’t repeat myself.” Alivia was never lenient with those who eyed her possessions.

The carer sobbed once, shamefully undressing before leaving.

Disgust flickered in Alivia’s eyes. She thought of the woman’s audacity to get close to Max

and scoffed at her lack of self–awareness.

As she cracked the door slightly, she heard Max’s voice, softer than she had ever heard it.

“Brielle, did you call?”

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Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

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