Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)

Brielle was at a loss for words on how to respond to Mark. She had wanted to tell him not to bother coming over because she had undergone another paternity test with Kingston, this time under the strict supervision of a government-regulated hospital. Hence, the chances of a mistake were slim to none.

Two consecutive paternity tests yielding the same result solidified the truth about her and Kingston's connection.

Who would go to such lengths to orchestrate all this?

Before she had met Max, Brielle's life had been by the book, and although her relationship with Max had attracted its fair share of criticism, it seemed far-fetched that someone would tamper with her identity.

Her brow furrowed with concern, but considering Max had personally arranged for someone to pick her up, she feared that refusing to cooperate would only leave him with doubts.

[Alright, Mark, just hit me up when you get here, and we can head out together. I've recently bumped into another guy from Sunflower Children's Home, and we could both come and pick you up.] she replied.

The person she was talking about was Ricardo, who used to live in Sunflower Children's Home and got along great with the kids there.

[You don't have to pick me up, Bri. Just focus on your own stuff. Mr. Dorsey's got my back. My return's on the down-low. Mr. Lynch also found me last time, so there's probably some secret still lurking in that home. It's better to play it safe.] Mark texted back. Brielle's heart sank a little more with each message.

Mark was no spring chicken, and she had selfishly sent him away from Beaconsfield. Now, because of her, he was being dragged back into turmoil and sneaking around in his own hometown.

Beaconsfield was supposed to be Mark's home.

However, she was powerless to intervene, so she silently accepted the outcome.

She stayed in the Premier Palace until late afternoon when news came from the clinic that Martha had awakened. Brielle's heart leaped, only to plummet upon hearing that Martha had slipped into a vegetative state.

She felt paralyzed, frozen on the couch, her mind a whirlwind of chaos.

Meanwhile, her phone number had somehow been leaked to Kingston. Since Mark's message, Kingston had been bombarding her with texts, each more pleading than the last, begging her to help get James out of the police station. But what could Brielle possibly do?

James had hurt Martha, Michael's wife.

Michael had made his intentions crystal clear: they would pay for their actions.

Kingston's final message was a plea.

[I'm sorry for using the media against you and abandoning you all those years ago. Your brother is vital to us; without him, your mother and I wouldn't survive. Brielle, even if your mom and I end up behind bars,

please don't let James go to prison. He isn't a bad guy, just quick-tempered. It's your mom and I who are at fault. When James heard we found you, he kept us from extorting money from you. He may look intimidating, but he's not a bad guy. Please, I'm begging you.]

Kingston was desperate, and his dozens of messages were a testament to his helplessness.

The police had taken James into custody, and the list of charges against him was lengthy as if they intended to keep him locked away for life.

Kingston couldn't accept this.

James was the family's golden boy, coddled and adored since childhood. They couldn't bear to see him suffer, but now, inexplicably, he was facing prison time.

As Brielle read the messages, her brow knitted tightly.

Taking a deep breath, she made up her mind to visit James at the police station. Her memory of that night was too muddled; only James knew the whole truth. She arrived at the station to find James, nearly two meters tall, covered in bruises. It seemed Michael had made sure the officers gave James a 'warm welcome.' James' face was scratched, but his eyes lit up at the sight of Brielle. "Bri, you came to see me? So, can I get out of here now?" he asked hopefully.

Brielle had no real affection for the Fox family and loathed Kingston, who was nothing but a schemer in her eyes.

She didn't know James well, but it was undeniable that he had manhandled Martha and had been aggressive.

"You're not getting out, James.

You've hurt someone from the

Dorsey family of Beaconsfield.

That's Max's mother. Max's the GEO

of Dorsey International. Michael has

ordered that you spend the rest of your days in prison," she said, her Voice steady.