The Billionaire Who Stole My Heart novel Chapter 793

Stuffed and satisfied, Brittany followed Isaac upstairs with a mischievous grin, playfully addressing him. “Bro Isaac.”

Isaac paused in his stride. He closed the bedroom door, a fierce flame flickering in his eyes.

Brittany, oblivious to the imminent danger, chuckled cheekily. “Bro Isaac, do you not like me? You even rejected my application to work at your company.”

No sooner had her words fell.

Isaac swiftly lifted her onto the nearby vanity table, his large hands propped on either side. “Jealous?”

Brittany chuckled lightly. “Not at all.”

Jealousy was not it. It was just that hearing his name being called like that over and over gave her a headache.

Isaac seized her lips with his, his dominance overpowering. Brittany shivered, a faint blush creeping into her eyes.

“Joie once saved my life and also Grandma’s. I have to keep up appearances.”

Isaac knew Brittany's character well. Joie’s constant meddling had worn out his patience.

However, Joie was Grace's lifesaver, so he had to show her mercy.

Brittany's lips were enticingly red, bringing an irresistible charm. She nestled against Isaac's neck and muttered, “Bro Isaac, you’re right. I was being unreasonable.”

Brittany knew exactly who Joie was to him.

Five years ago, she was too proud to contend with Joie, but now, she had to start considering exposing Joie’s lies.

However, Joie had saved Grace.

Just because of that, even if Joie was exposed, she could still hold her ground in the Salter family.

Isaac could not bear her calling him “Bro Issac” any longer, his voice raspy as he said, “Stop calling me that.”

Brittany was utterly unaware of the impending danger, even thinking about provoking him further.

As a result, she paid a heavy price - she was forced to call him “Bro Issac” all night long.

Joie naturally stayed in the old mansion. She had a restless night.

The internet was filled with negative comments about her, and her company had also started to give her the cold shoulder.

She was looking at a minimum of three months, if not half a year, of inactivity.

She was accustomed to being adored, and now the whole industry was laughing at her. How was she supposed to cope?

Having had a terrible night’s sleep, Joie was up early the next morning.