Master of his heart

Chapter 128



Chapter 128
Spencer felt a sharp pang in his chest, a dull ache that made it hard to breathe. His silence was broken by a pitiful hand reaching
out, grabbing his wrist. “Spencer, it’s all my fault. I had no idea she was coming over tonight.”
The words were shameless, and even Tiffanie couldn’t help but snap, “What a tramp! Hooking up with someone else’s fiancé
and playing the victim? Disgusting.”
She even spat on the ground, her face contorted with revulsion.
Not just Lillian felt the sting, but Spencer’s face turned thunderous. Who was Tiffanie to judge? Wasn’t she just as flawed?
Lillian, as if frightened by Tiffanie’s brashness, pressed her lips together, holding back words as tears pooled in her eyes.
Until now, Tiffanie had been oblivious to Lillian’s true colors. Seeing her so brazen in front of Brielle, Tiffanie felt her blood boil.
“Spencer, what do you even see in her? I recall her grades weren’t anything to brag about, and she’s never held down a real job.
Everything she eats, uses, and wears, it’s all thanks to the Haywood family or you. And yet you treat her like some kind of
treasure? You must be blind. Brielle, let’s get out of here.” She couldn’t stand another minute in this toxic atmosphere.
Lillian had no comeback. Tiffanie’s words were nothing but the truth. Her college degree was bought, and her work life was a
string of part–time gigs. But did men really care about a woman’s ability? Or was it all about charm and obedience?
Lillian sneered. Tiffanie was such a fool. The more Tiffanie belittled her, the more Spencer felt embarrassed. After all, a man
wouldn’t admit admit they have poor judgment. And Spencer, with his strong sense of male chauvinism, wouldn’t tolerate a
woman stepping on his head.
Sure enough, Tiffanie’s words roused Spencer. He wrapped himself in a robe and strode over, his towering presence
overwhelming. “Tiffanie, you’re really asking for it today.”
But before he could act, Brielle stepped in front of Tiffanie. Spencer’s anger faltered under her gaze, the hurt in his heart
resurfacing. “Brielle, who do you think is to blame for this mess? You never loved me.”
Admitting such a thing was beyond humiliating. His eyes reddened, but he refused to stay and be embarrassed. With a bitter
clench of his teeth, he said, “I’ll wire you the money tomorrow, Brielle. You’ll regret this someday.”
Turning to Lillian, he said, “Get dressed, Lillian.”

Despite her resentment, Lillian had no choice. She had played the obedient lover for so long, only to see the multimillion–dollar
mansion she’d been promised slip into Brielle’s hands.
Tasting the bitterness of defeat, she shakily got dressed. As she passed Brielle, she couldn’t resist a parting shot. “Without this
house, Spencer will buy me another.”
Unaware that her scandal had been leaked in the Beaconsfield socialites‘ chat groups, she thought she could still play the
perfect victim. Those circles were already abuzz, replaying the incriminating video for laughs.
The groups that included Lillian fell into an eerie silence. They had only known Lillian as innocent, oblivious to her affair with
Spencer, who was publicly engaged to Brielle. The video laid bare their indiscretions, and the context made it clear this wasn’t a
recent fling.
Lillian was the other woman.
In the realm of high society, mistresses and illegitimate children were scorned unless you could captivate the man and ascend.
Otherwise, you’d never know how the glittering crowd would speak of you behind closed doors.
Brielle’s exposed photos were just a dinner with Kenzo, but Lillian’s exposed photos were her bedding Spencer. In contrast, the
evidence of Lillian being a mistress was more than sufficient. Silence reigned in the chat room, and Lillian, oblivious to the
turmoil, felt something was amiss when her message was met with silence. Any other time, her words would spark a chorus of
agreement. To confirm her suspicions, she suggested they all meet for afternoon tea the next day.


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