Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 1136

Brielle floored the accelerator, weaving through traffic like a seasoned racecar driver. In the backseat, Noir sensed the danger, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a mix of alertness and curiosity.

Isaac, quick on his feet, pulled out the GPS tracker hanging around his neck. This wasn't just any tracker; it was a multifunctional device that could navigate urban jungles and make emergency calls. Without hesitation, he dialed King. King was with Dustin in a dimly lit diner that had seen better days. The air was thick with tension, neither man particularly pleased to see the other. But the moment King's phone rang and he saw Isaac's name, his demeanor softened. "Little Cricket," he answered, his voice tinged with concern.

"Dad, we're being chased. Me, Brielle... help us."

The tracker was still on Isaac, a beacon amidst the chaos. Despite their bodyguards being taken out, hope wasn't lost as long as the tracker was active. King was up in an instant, rallying Joseph with urgency, "Find Little Cricket and Brielle. Deploy everything we've got to rescue them."

Dustin, overhearing, couldn't sit still either. He was on his phone in a heartbeat, his voice tense, "We've got a situation. Little Falcon's in trouble."

In an unexpected display of unity, the two men, moments away from a showdown, now shared a ride, setting their differences aside for a common cause.

Back at the Lynch estate, a fleet of private helicopters lifted off from the family's airstrip, their rotors slicing through the air. At the castle, elite snipers were ready to move out, their skills unmatched and their aim deadly.

Brielle, upon hearing Little Cricket had made the call, felt a wave of relief. In the face of danger, the kid showed courage, reminding her of Max in more ways than one. Little did she know, their expressions mirrored each other's determination.

Little Cricket, gently patting Noir's head in the backseat, spoke up, "Urban ambush."

His words were a clear warning: the urban center was undoubtedly rigged with a larger trap. Their assailants had already made their move on this freeway, showing they cared little for the might of the Lynch family, the influence of the royal family, or the power of North American alliances. This was a desperate move, indicating the real danger lay ahead, on the road to the city center.

Brielle was taken aback, realizing she and the kid were on the same wavelength. Heading towards the city would guarantee their capture, especially since King and her brother were likely facing significant obstacles of their own.

Was it that shadowy organization behind this? Capturing her and Isaac would indeed force the Lynch family to surrender their diamond empire and hand over the oil riches on a silver platter. They couldn't afford to be caught, nor could they head into the city. "Little Cricket, you're brilliant. Let's cut through this wetland park and head for the hills. Noir's wilderness skills should give us the upper hand. How about he carries us both? Sound good?"

Noir, larger and more imposing than any ordinary leopard, stood taller than most men when on his hind legs. Together, Brielle and Isaac weighed no more than a regular prey Noir might hunt in the wild, making their plan to escape on his back feasible.

Isaac was surprised, replaceing himself

and Brielle on the same page. He turned to her, noticing for the first time how calm she remained under pressure. If it had been Kailee, she'd probably be clutching her rosary and praying by now. Maybe there was more to this woman than met the eye; she wasn't just a pretty face after all.

"Alright," he agreed, as Brielle's car veered off the road, plowing through the underbrush towards the wetland park. This park, vast and largely

undeveloped, was typically emnet

until the afternoon. It offered them a brief respite from their pursuers, who had been maintaining à careful distance, herding them towards the city and its prepared traps.

But what they hadn't anticipated was Brielle's sudden detour, creating a new path away from the laid-out snare.