Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Just as she was about to strike at his belly, a mocking voice echoed from not too far away. "Slut!"

Brielle froze, her gaze shifting toward the entrance.

The whole area was a wellness retreat with picturesque views, and at that moment, Martha, sitting in a wheelchair, was being pushed around for a stroll in the vicinity.

There was a riverside walkway meant exclusively for the retreat and the surrounding villa community. Brielle hadn't expected to run into Martha here.

Martha's eyes blazed with an intense hatred as she glared at Brielle.

Brielle frowned upon hearing Martha's unfiltered tirade continue.

"You whore! You think you've won my son over with your bedroom tricks? The guy next to you must be your lover, huh? You sure have a way with men, seducing Max with your cheap tricks. Now that Max isn't around, you're already on the prowl for someone else, aren't you?

"Word is your dad's a doorman, your mom's a lowly maid, and your brother's a no-good thug. How can someone of your low birth lack such self-awareness and cling to Max like that? Don't you feel inferior in front of him?!

"You're not worthy of my son, and that brute next to you, he looks like an uneducated lout. Brielle, oh Brielle, I bet you're with Max just for the money, right? Probably learned all your tricks from your mom. I heard she was quite the little tart in her day. The whole neighborhood knew how cheap she was."

Martha had been seething with fury lately, and she hadn't expected to be caught off guard by a run-in with Brielle.

Her pent-up rage exploded in an instant, and she could barely contain her desire to throttle Brielle right there. However, she had just finished her medication and was still feeling weak, so all she could do was shoot Brielle death stares.

Stung by the barrage of insults, Brielle scowled. James, who had been restraining her, slowly let go and bellowed, "Shut your damn mouth, you old hag! What the hell are you saying? I think you're the real slut here!"

Martha, unaccustomed to being spoken to in such a way, turned a ghastly shade of pale and let out a sinister chuckle. "Oh, hit a nerve, did I? You adulterers deserve each other. You should rot in hell."

James couldn't take the provocation and marched forward with imposing strides. His towering figure was intimidating enough to send Martha's nurse running in fear.

He grabbed Martha by the collar and snarled, "Keep talking, you old bitch, I dare you!"

No street tough was known for their respect for the elderly.

Martha was livid, her scalp tingling with rage Her son hadn't visited her, and the crushing news Alivia had brought made she wish everything related to Brielle would just vanish.

"I'll say whatever I want about you and Brielle. You're both trash, birds of a feather, partners in filth."Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

"Go to hell!" James shoved Martha back into her wheelchair and kicked it forcefully.

"James! Stop!"

Brielle ran to intervene, but James was beyond listening. The wheelchair, with Martha in it, tumbled down the steep steps.

Brielle's heart suddenly turned cold, and at this moment, she found herself unable to say anything.

The wheelchair cascaded down the slope, and Martha, instead of screaming, wore a twisted grin. "Crash!"

Finally, the wheelchair hit the ground, Martha's head striking the sharp edge of a flower bed, blood

pooking around her inso

The cake Brielle had been holding

dropped to the ground, and s people in white, clearly d severat

emerged from the retreat.

James looked down as Martha was surrounded and helped inside, probably to be rushed into emergency care. "That bitch got what she deserved."

He had no clue about the gravity of what he had done and was tempted to spit in the direction of Martha's fall.

The police arrived swiftly, and handcuffs clicked shut around James' wrists.

Only then did James start to panic, his eyes seeking Brielle's.