Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle had been walking for about ten minutes when she spotted someone sprawled under the dim glow of a streetlamp, a winding trail of moisture leading up to him. If the light were clearer, it would have shown it was blood-his injuries were bad. At the sound of her footsteps, his fingers twitched. He'd already used up most of his energy getting here. Leaning against the wall, he slowly pushed himself up. But when he turned and saw Brielle, surprise and panic flashed in his eyes.Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

Brielle heard the rain, a soft drizzle coming down from all directions. The alley offered no shelter, and she frowned slightly at the sight of him shrouded in a dark cloak. She didn't know how Max had convinced the crew at Sky Lounge to play along, but the setup was devilishly clever. Annie had been captured, and the man before her had narrowly escaped death. She had watched as he was ambushed, knowing he had taken several hits. Max's people wanted him alive, but his skills forced them to fight to kill.

By some twist of fate, this alley was the same one where Brielle had met Dustin when she first went abroad, where a murder had also taken place amid rainfall. "Come with me," she said in an even tone, taking a few steps forward. But he didn't follow. Turning back, she saw him still propped against the wall. They locked eyes in silence for several seconds. Thinking he couldn't walk, Brielle approached to support him by the arm. The man tried to control his labored breathing, but the slight tremble in his body betrayed his distress. He was in pain, a cramping, agonizing pain.

Brielle lowered her lashes and asked, "Your people should be here to back you up, right?" He nodded, his forehead and back slick with sweat. Supporting him, Brielle followed the path Dustin had shown her before, arriving at another location. Max's men were still searching. Hearing conversation ahead, Brielle paused, seated the man on a nearby bench, and walked out alone.

"Ms. Brielle," one of Max's people greeted her with relief. "Check elsewhere. This area's been cleared," she advised them. "Sure thing, Ms. Brielle. Stay safe." Without suspicion, they headed off in another direction. Returning to the bench, Brielle saw the man trying to leave. "Stay." She let the word drop before lowering her lashes again. When she looked back up, her eyes were calm once more. "If you go that way, they'll catch you." She stepped forward, firmly guiding him down a path she had thought out.

Reaching the roadside, she diverted several more of Max's people and managed to get the man into a waiting black car. As she closed the door, she stared into his eyes, hidden beneath scars, her tone serious. "I owed you once before, and now again in this foreign land. You made Dustin disappear-that settles one debt. I'm saving you now; we're even. Next time, we're enemies." The man, who had been suppressing his coughs, couldn't hold back any longer at her words. It seemed her statement hit him harder than any wound he bore. He coughed as if his heart would burst forth.

Brielle shut the door, straightening her back. "Don't hold back next time. I won't either." His coughing continued. He knew exactly when he had given himself away-the signed note had betrayed him. Brielle had an excellent memory and a knack for connecting the dots. She was clever too clever. But she also knew the score when it came to debts and grudges. He truly believed that if they met again, she would kill him without hesitation. As she had said, they were square. Between them, everything was over. And yet, it had never truly begun.