Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 87



Brielle pushed herself to her feet, grabbing the cane that rested beside her chair. “Uncle Max, maybe Patrick could take me home?” She wanted to clear her head, to regain control before everything spiraled beyond repair.

Max looked up at her, stood, and pulled her into a comforting embrace. “I’ll take you.” It wasn’t an offer to stay, but a promise to escort her.

A wave of disappointment washed over Brielle, but she mustered a smile nonetheless. “Thanks, Uncle Max. I appreciate it.”

The drive back to her apartment was silent. Once there, Brielle leaned on her cane as she made her way inside. Noticing Max hadn’t left immediately, she fumbled her way to the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove. “I’ve only got black tea here.”

Max settled onto the couch, not offering to help, watching her manage with her cane, as she washed some fruit and brought it out. All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

Brielle couldn’t deny her irritation. After all, she was the one who was injured. Sitting down, she tossed her cane aside with a huff and caught her breath. “There’s nothing much at home. Hope you don’t mind.”

Max’s gaze softened as he noticed the sweat on the tip of her nose and the flush of her cheeks. He looked away. “Dorsey International has incorporated your two principles into our management system. You should talk to finance about doubling your year–end bonus.”

The abrupt change in topic caught Brielle off guard. “What?”

Once the realization hit her, she almost choked. All this time she had been stewing in her own frustrations, and there was Max, still pondering over business matters? True to The Priest’s form, he never let women distract

him from work.

Biting her lip in annoyance, she also considered that this was exactly what she had hoped for. His professional detachment gave her room to breathe.

“Alright, thanks, Mr. Dorsey.” She stood up, leaning on her cane, and re–presented the washed fruit. “I won’t keep you any longer, Mr. Dorsey. You probably have meetings to attend. Take care.”

As she spoke, Max reached out and took hold of her wrist. Brielle’s eyes were drawn to the black rosary he wore, making him seem even more ethereal, as though he truly belonged in the heavens.

“Are you upset?”

It was rare for him to notice her mood. Brielle looked down at the fruit in her hands. The act of serving it only to take it back seemed childish and foolish.

Taking a deep breath, she placed the fruit back on the table. “No, Uncle Max. You’re probably used to exotic fruits, flown in from abroad. I didn’t want to disappoint.”

“If you like, I can have Brent arrange for daily deliveries.” His tone was casual, as if puzzled by her preoccupation with such trivialities.

Brielle’s heart sank. Her concerns were far from being about the fruit. Her gaze returned to the rosary beads on his wrist, and she couldn’t help but think of Alivia, who had a similar string, likely a gift from him. Giving such a gift to a woman, no wonder they found it hard to forget him.

She extended her pale finger and toyed with the beads. “Uncle Max, could you give me this rosary?”

The question surprised even her. Realizing what she had said, she panicked, disregarding the pain in her leg. and hastily pressed her lips to his.

Max wrapped his arms around her waist, tilting his head slightly. “In such a hurry? Are you sure your leg can handle it?”

15:09

Her heart raced as she kissed him again. Why had she asked for the rosary? Why did she want it? She must be losing her mind.

She lowered her head and bit gently into his neck.

Max grasped her chin, his eyes dark and intense, “You had a fever last night. It’s best not to play with fire now

Just as he finished speaking, a loud banging erupted from the door.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Spencer could hardly contain the urge to smash the door down. The fact that Brielle had been to the police station and he was the last to know infuriated him.

Spencer, always prideful, checked his phone multiple times. Surely, in her time of need, Brielle should have called him for help, but there were no missed calls from her.

Since when had Brielle stopped reaching out to him with messages and calls? The realization stoked a fire within him. He was angry that he cared even the slightest.

What right did she have, a woman who did nothing but seduce men, to occupy his thoughts? Was it wrong for him to have slept with Lillian? Perhaps Brielle had already been with other men, keeping it a secret all along. It wasn’t that he had cheated on her. Brielle had betrayed him first.


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