Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle nearly got frostbite from the icy draft that Max unleashed. Yet, there were things she felt compelled to probe on her own. She needed solid answers, instead of tossing and turning in the dead of night, parsing the meaning behind each of his words

Max seemed to wear a mask. Impeccable on the surface, but the ripples in his eyes began to spread with Brielle’s approach.

Brielle was already striking, and with her injury, there was a shimmering vulnerability in her eyes that made her look pitiable. A stifling sensation crossed Max’s heart. He frowned slightly. but his words were devoid of emotion. “Why are you here at the office if your leg isn’t healed?”

It sounded like nothing more than a superior’s concern for a subordinate.

Brielle mustered her strength to hide her emotions, even managing to pull off a smile. “Mr. Dorsey, you’ve been a big help, and I haven’t had the chance to thank you yet.

Her heart twinged as if someone was kneading its softest part.

She had reverted to calling him Mr. Dorsey. It was a measure of her sense of propriety.

“It was nothing.”

Max felt a sting in his heart upon seeing her equally cold demeanor. This was the outcome he wanted.

Brielle had already entered and kept a considerable distance between them. The elevator doors closed.

Catherine stood outside, and her heartbeat nearly stopped as she saw Brielle chase after Max. She worried there might be something between them. But seeing Max’s coldness towards Brielle, she felt a surge of relief. It appeared that Brielle was just being presumptuous.

She laughed at her prior anxiety. Clearly, Max only saw Brielle as an ordinary employee, not offering her the slightest warmth. Where on earth did Connor get his information? She’d have to have a word with him next time.

The elevator began its descent, indicating that Max had no intention of attending the meeting.

Brielle leaned against the elevator wall, catching Max’s indifference in the reflection. She lowered her gaze.

The silence was sharper than a knife. Since it was so, she didn’t need to rush to be the butt of someone else’s joke. She watched the numbers on the elevator panel, not uttering a word.

Max, though appearing detached, was surreptitiously observing her from the corner of his eye. He said it was a minor effort, but did she really plan on showing no gratitude? After all, he had hid Spencer for days and had dealt with the Haywood family.

She was truly heartless. Even a stray dog knew to wag its tail when you threw it a bone. But

15:05

with Brielle, she wouldn’t even offer him a glance. Fine, he definitely wouldn’t be the one to break the silence. NôvelDrama.Org owns this.

A few seconds later.

“Does your leg still hurt?”

Brielle paused, realizing he was addressing her. Just as she was about to respond, the elevator jolted violently. Already unstable on her crutches, she lurched towards him.

The lights inside flickered before going out entirely, and the elevator ground to a halt. The doors remained shut.

Brielle realized she was in Max’s arms. The force of the jolt had thrown her against him. She wasn’t heavy, but she still worried if Max’s hands were hurt. “Are your hands alright?”

Max’s hands were momentarily numb, and his brow furrowed, but the darkness concealed their expressions from each other.

“Yeah.”

Brielle sighed in relief and slowly disengaged from his embrace. Her crutch had fallen, and she bent down to search for it.

Her hand touched the cold fabric of Max’s trouser leg. She quickly withdrew, stumbling over her words. “Sorry.” She turned in a different direction and continued feeling around for her crutch.

An emergency light in the elevator flicked on as Max pulled out his phone, noticing her crouched on the floor. The injured leg was awkwardly bent.

He felt a surge of irritation. Couldn’t she use her mouth to ask for help? Couldn’t she just ask him for assistance?

The light flickered on,