Master of his heart ( Brielle And Max )
Chapter 438

Chapter 438 

Sydney swallowed nervously, feeling that Spencer had gone off the deep end this time. But she didn’t voice her concerns. After all, when you took someone’s cash, you were in for the dash. 

If anything went south, Spencer would be there to take the heat, right? 

The car soon pulled up to the grand gates of Pearl Estate. 

Brielle had brought Sydney here before, and the security guards at the entrance recognized her. They heard that Brielle was under the weather and needed some home comforts delivered, so they nodded Sydney through without fuss. 

Spencer couldn’t go up since no resident had come down to escort him. However, he had swiftly bought a house in the complex overnight. Once Sydney sent the signal, he could waltz in without a hitch as a homeowner. 

Following her memory, Sydney reached Brielle’s door and rang the bell. 

Still weak and slouched on her couch, Brielle heard the doorbell and mustered the get up and answer it. 

e strength to 

Sydney quickly set down the chicken soup and the side salad she had brought on the table. “Ms. Haywood, I got you some food,” Sydney said, her voice oozing concern. “Eat something first, and then you can worry about work.”  sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Brielle was in so much pain it felt like she might pass out. Barely holding it together, she muttered a feeble “Thank you.” She then sat at the table and began to eat the soup and salad without a second thought. 

Sydney watched her, wary of any hesitation, but Brielle was focused on warming her stomach and had no suspicions about Sydney, who had turned so shady in just a few days. 

The corners of Sydney’s lips curled in triumph as Brielle ate without a second thought. 

After finishing the soup, Brielle felt a touch better but was still in pain. She clutched at her ache. and a fine sheen of sweat broke on her brow. 

“Ms. Haywood,” Sydney offered, with a hint of fake sweetness, “if you’re not feeling up to par. why don’t you take a nap on the couch? Or I could drive you to the hospital?” 

E 

“No hospital,” Brielle murmured, the exhaustion seeping in and easing her pain. “I’ll just take a 

nap.” 

With that, she shuffled over to the couch and collapsed into slumber far too quickly. 

Sydney saw Brielle’s rapid descent into sleep and called out tentatively. “Ms. Haywood?” There was no response; Brielle was out cold. 

Sydney felt like she had struck gold without lifting a finger and promptly texted Spencer. 

Spencer smirked as he read Sydney’s message. Without wasting a beat, he called Alivia. “Ms. 

Chapter 438 

Alivia, remember our little agreement? It’s time to take care of the problem in Brielle’s belly. I’ve drugged her into a stupor. She’ll be delivered to you shortly. You’ve got a doctor who can keep a secret, right?” 

A glint of triumph flashed in Alivia’s eyes. She hadn’t expected Spencer to deliver so quickly. “Brielle, oh Brielle, you never saw this coming, did you?” 

Memories of her visit to the sanatorium and hearing the shocking truth from Martha’s lips flashed through Alivia’s mind – how Max had stooped so low as to help Brielle not take the contraception pills. Brielle wasn’t worthy! 

Bitterness laced with exhilaration filled Alivia. To dispose of the child Max didn’t know about was to control Brielle’s destiny. Brielle deserved to grovel at their feet, a plaything in their 

hands.. 

“Spencer, I’ll send you an address. Bring her there,” Alivia instructed, her voice cold. 

With her extensive connections from working in the research institute, Alivia knew exactly whom to call – Tessa. The Rowland family’s medical empire was unparalleled, and after ensuring Tessa’s discretion, she headed for the destination. 

The clinic was private but staffed with top–tier doctors accustomed to the dirty laundry of Beaconsfield’s elite. Whether it was a pristine debutante needing a quiet procedure or a socialite’s indiscretion, they were experts. 

And their equipment? State–of–the–art, catering only to those who could afford the utmost privacy and care.

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