Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle’s expression darkened, but before she could utter a word, Kenzo interjected with a counter. “Mr. Spencer, do you always speak so harshly to your fiancée?”

The word “fiancée” struck a nerve in Spencer. The disgust and disdain on his face were as clear as day, as if Brielle were some piece of trash, disgusting to even glance at.

“Brielle is just trash. She deserves nothing more than my contempt. Kenzo, don’t tell me you’ve grown a soft spot for her? There are a million women pining for you. Can you even keep track? And remember how Tiffanie got turned down by you in public? Then she went on a spree, living it up. It didn’t seem to affect you one bit. Mr. Kenzo, your heart is as hard as stone. What right do you have to judge me?”

Spencer said this with a smug tone, not feeling the slightest bit ashamed for embarrassing his own cousin. In his eyes, Tiffanie was no better–had she any self–respect, she wouldn’t have stirred up so many scandals. She and Brielle were cut from the same cloth, utterly lost without

a man.

“Having dinner with Brielle, don’t you ever think of Tiffanie? They’re the same kind of woman, groveling at men’s feet, desperate for attention–it’s sickening.”

Spencer was speaking out of sheer anger, his words as harsh as could be. By the time he regained his composure, Brielle’s slap had already connected.

“Smack!”

It wasn’t the first time Spencer had been struck, but this slap carried an unusual force. His cheek stung fiercely, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He felt a bitter mix of self–pity and hatred as

he touched his cheek, his chest trembling with rage.

This bitch had hit him again–what right did she have? Wasn’t it her own sordid actions that shouldn’t be spoken of?

Underneath the thick hate, there was an unmistakable twinge of heartache. Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.

Brielle withdrew her hand, “Had enough, Spencer? Who I sleep with is none of your business. We’ll annul this engagement sooner or later. Why the temper tantrum? Are you disgusted by me but also waiting for your turn? Too bad, you’re not even on my radar. You’ve been out of the game from the start, got it?”

Out of the game–such humiliating terms.

Brielle blew on her palm, which had reddened from the force of the slap, then turned to Kenzo.

Kenzo’s eyes still held a trace of surprise, probably not expecting her to resort to violence.

“Sorry for the scene, Kenzo. For the reality show script, feel free to contact me anytime. But I’ve got other matters to attend to, so I’ll be leaving.”

Kenzo chuckled, feigning a cough, “Sure, I’ll get in touch.”

17:17

Brielle nodded and, without a glance at an astonished Spencer, got into her mid–range car and drove away.

Spencer, touching his face, stared at Kenzo, and wiped the blood from his lip with a sneer, “To fuss over a woman who’s been played, Kenzo, I thought you had higher standards.”

Kenzo found the situation amusing, as Spencer desperately slandered Brielle like a petulant child. The more he seemed to want something, the more he pretended he didn’t. Interesting indeed.

“Brielle is actually quite intriguing,” Kenzo remarked casually.

“Ha, then you must find Tiffanie intriguing as well. Don’t think I’m clueless about you two.”

Kenzo had no interest in tangling with such a child, resting a hand on the lapel of his jacket, “I am not familiar with Tiffanie.” To blame Tiffanie’s downfall on him was a miscarriage of justice.

“Please.”

Spencer scoffed, turning his gaze away, “Anyway, Brielle is my fiancée, and even if you two tear up the bed sheets, it won’t matter. Unless I call off the engagement, you’re nothing but a homewrecker.”

Kenzo had reached his car when he heard this. He paused, “Mr. Spencer, you should know that as writers, we often lack a moral compass. Sometimes, for the sake of inspiration, we’re willing to do anything. I haven’t tried the role of a ‘homewrecker‘ yet, but if Brielle is offering the opportunity, I wouldn’t rule it out.”

Spencer was left speechless, fuming as he watched Kenzo’s car disappear into the distance. With a cold expression and for reasons unknown even to himself, Spencer dialed Faith.

“Mom, I’ve made up my mind. I want to marry Brielle, immediately, right away.”