Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chase stood a short distance away, watching Brielle mutter into her phone with caution. He couldn't make out the words and didn't care enough to probe, so he just stood there waiting for her.

Brielle's call dragged on for a whole ten minutes.

In Chase's world, nobody had ever made him wait that long.

Bored, he plopped down nearby, snatched up his phone, and shot a text to Dustin.

"Yo, you there?"

"Hey, man, when do you think I'll be able to win over Keiran?"

"Hello? You ghosting me?"

Feeling a bit daring, Chase sent a $100 bribe through a text message, which was instantly accepted on the other end.

His fingers trembled with annoyance.

"Just a hundred bucks? You sell out so cheap?!"

Dustin finally replied. "What's up?"

"I'm taking your sister to the casino. Didn't you want me to dig up some dirt on this King guy? It's freaky; the dude seems to have popped out of thin air, and he's super cautious. The only lead is that he seems really interested in your sister, so I brought her here. No guts, no glory, right?" "Don't mess this up."

"Trust me, my bodyguards went ahead. They're keeping a close eye on Brielle. Even if I screw up, she'll be fine."

"Be smart."

"Ha, you're the one who conned Keiran into meeting me; I'm just doing what I ought to. And man, that guy's got some seriously good looks. I'm not losing out here, bro."

Keiran was blissfully unaware that he was being played by Dustin. All that talk about friends in North America? Total fabrication by Chase. So when Keiran accompanied Brielle abroad, that friend conveniently bailed, replaced by Chase himself.

Keiran, bless his naive heart, eventually realized he got the wrong guy. But since Chase had put him up for the night, he instantly considered Chase a confidant.

His face-blindness was severe; he couldn't remember faces to save his life. But Chase had been circling around him enough that now he could recall Dustin, Brielle, Chase.

That supposed friend? Lost in the corners of his memory.

As Chase put away his phone, Brielle approached, seemingly consoled by Max, her expression returning to its usual poise.

They entered the casino, much like the first time Brielle visited.

It was evening now, the peak of activity.

Those who wore their aloof masks daily had all cast them aside here.

Brielle felt out of place, yet something inside urged her to stick around a bit longer.

Chase signaled to his surrounding bodyguards, who blended in as regular patrons, their true roles undetected.NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

Wherever Brielle went, she was shadowed by at least three protectors.

If Chase dared to bring her here, he had to ensure her safety, or Dustin would have his head.

Brielle glanced at the winding

staircase as she walked down the

corridor, remembering how the attendants had seemed to recognize her before, treating her with reverence. But this time, they merely nodded and followed at a distance.

Brielle had never grasped King's motives. If he fancied her, his affection was cryptic and sudden.

This man had emerged into her life out of nowhere, targeting Max and throwing Beaconsfield into disarray.

Where was he now?

She stopped an attendant, whose face was hidden behind a black cat mask. At the sight of her, the attendant bowed respectfully. "Ms. Brielle, enjoy your evening."

"Where's King?"

Without looking up, the attendant

said, "King hasn't been to the casino

in age

If Ms. Brielle is here to see

him, I'm afraid she'll be

Ov

disappointed."

"What happened to him?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just a low-level employee. I don't know the details."

Brielle had no choice but to move on.

She wandered the vicinity, unaware that she was accessing areas off-limits to other patrons without a single interruption, as if it was assumed she wouldn't uncover anything.

And Brielle was oblivious to this privilege.

She had promised Max to stay for only half an hour. Time was up; she had to leave.

As she turned to go, she spotted a man standing not far behind her.

His build was similar to King's, but he wasn't wearing a mask.

Brielle had a good memory. Once decided, she could sketch a person's profile in her mind with ease.

The man approached slowly, stopping by her side.

Brielle stepped back warily.

He extended a pale hand, his eyes long and foxy, radiating a flirtatious charm.

"Myles," he introduced himself.