Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

telle nibbled at a sandwich, her fingers dancing through the yarn as she knitted a scarf into the wee hours of the morning. It wasn’t until then that she finally drifted off into a fitful sleep. her dreams a tangled mix of Max and visions of him with other women.

When she woke, it was already noon the next day, and Max still hadn’t returned. After freshening up, she couldn’t resist the urge to call him, but there was no answer on the other

1. nd. Her heart hung suspended, heavy with worry. She tried Patrick next, but all he said was that they were a bit tied up.

Restlessly. Brielle waited until six in the evening when Max’s car finally pulled up to the front of Premier Palace. She hurried outside and opened the car door to find Max leaning back in his seat, his eyes closed, a picture of exhaustion but, thankfully, unharmed. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Slipping into the car, she took his hand, intertwining their fingers firmly. Max’s eyelashes fluttered, and he turned to look at her, pulling her into an embrace. They rode in silence.

Brielle wracked her brain, even wondering if she had done anything in the past couple of days. to upset him. After meticulously dissecting the recent events, she couldn’t pinpoint anything. she might’ve done wrong.

Upon arriving at the Dorsey familt’s old mansion, the butler was already waiting at the door. “Sir, Ms. Brielle, Mr. Michael has been expecting you,” he announced.

Brielle instantly gathered her wits, clutching Max’s hand a little tighter.

Only then did Max open his eyes, the redness in them evident. Seeing his state only. heightened her concern. What had Max been up to these past two days?

Max looked down and tousled her hair. “Don’t be nervous.”

It wasn’t nerves she felt, just concern for him.,“I told you, I’ve got to face this,” she murmured. She hadn’t seen him in over a day and couldn’t help herself; she tiptoed to wrap her arms around his neck. But Max stepped back, nodding towards the house. “Let’s go inside.” © NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

Brielle stood frozen for a moment, feeling as if a bucket of icy water had been poured over

her heart.

She looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of what was troubling him. But Max. remained untroubled.

She forced a smile. “Alright, let’s go in.”

The butler watched the two approach and opened the door as they finally moved forward.

Inside the stately Dorsey family ancestral home, Michael sat at the head of the room while others were seated on either side. As Brielle stepped in, she felt Spencer’s piercing gaze upon her. He looked gaunt, as if he’d lost a great deal of weight. His eyes were fixed on her

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with a mad intensity.

Seated on the couch were William, Victoria, Tiffanie, and a man she didn’t recognize. Hel appeared to be in his forties, dressed in a sharp black suit, hands folded across hist midsection, his expression somewhat indifferent. Victoria’s hand rested on his arm, clearly trying to draw closer, but the man seemed to barely tolerate her touch, even frowning in distaste. Brielle guessed this man must’ve been Everett.

Aside from these familiar faces, there were others whose identities she didn’t know–likely elders from the broader family branches. Their eyes were all on her, and the distant relatives chuckled coldly, though they kept silent as it wasn’t their place to speak.

This didn’t feel like a family dinner; it felt more like Brielle was on trial.

Michael gestured for the butler to prepare a seat for Brielle. The butler quickly pushed a single chair forward, indicating Max would have to sit elsewhere.

Max frowned and looked towards Michael, who pointed to the couch. “Max, sit over here,” he said, making no effort to hide his intention to separate them.

Max stood still, about to object, but Michael’s cold laugh cut him short. “What, you’re not even prepared to face the Dorsey family?”

Brielle gently tugged at Max’s sleeve. “Go ahead, I’ll sit here,” she whispered.

Causing a scene would not only be an affront to Michael but would also embolden the sideline family members.

She quickly assessed the room. About a dozen relatives seemed to have gathered, indicating the incident at the private box had caused quite a stir.

Max was the chosen heir of the Dorseys, and no member of the Dorsey family wanted to see him waste his potential on someone like Brielle.

Almost all the elders who could make it were present. Though they were just from the side branches, they were influential in their own right, with many serving as CEOS in companies under Dorsey International.