Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

In the evening, the film crew decided to head out for a dinner party. Brielle tagged along, mingling for a couple of hours, sipping just enough wine to feel the buzz, before deciding to make her exit.

Aiden was at the wheel again, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. "Ms. Brielle, an hour ago, we got word from the Dorsey family. Michael is critically ill."

Brielle's eyes narrowed slightly. Michael had always been the picture of health; how could he suddenly be on his deathbed?

Her lips pressed tightly together as the gears in her mind turned swiftly - this must be a call for Max to return home. Sure enough, her phone rang with Max on the line.

"When are you planning to head overseas?"

For some reason, Brielle always felt like Max had an uncanny grasp of her intentions.

"In a few days. How's Desiree holding up?"

"The Lynch family hasn't informed her about Dustin's situation yet. The sanatorium is quite secure."

Brielle's gaze softened. Deep down, she knew Max must have figured out her true identity, but he never prodded. Whenever she was in need, he was there to lend a hand, but if she chose silence, he'd feign ignorance. That's how it always was.

If she was hurting, he'd feel it, yet he'd keep his concerns to himself. Brielle was well aware that if she ever decided to throw tantrums and demand vengeance for even the slightest scratch on her finger, expecting Max to be her avenging sword, he'd probably comply without a word and just go ahead with the task. That was Max for you.

He had said once, he never treated Brielle like a canary. Whatever she wanted to do, whatever her real identity was, it didn't matter to him. All he could offer was a nudge at the pivotal moments. If Brielle took a step forward, he'd match it. If she took ten steps, he'd follow suit. Even if Brielle reached the pinnacle, Max would stand on a peak even higher. He was simple in that way, yet unfathomably profound.

"Max, there's trouble with the Dorsey family. Are you coming back?"

With no more to say, Brielle listened as he added in a lowered voice, "Miss you." Despite being too preoccupied for romantic banter, that sentiment still sent a warm tingle to her ears.

"Yeah."

After the call, the tenderness in Max's expression vanished, replaced by a cold resolve. Patrick placed an object next to him, speaking with grave seriousness.

"We found this in the room of

someone close to Mr. Lynch during

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a search. This person, who Mr. Lynch trusts implicitly and has known for about ten years, never speaks, and due to an accident in childhood involving severe burns, supposedly never shows their true face."

The item Patrick handed over was a prosthetic scar, almost

indistinguishable from a real injury It meant that this Dummy wasn't really burned at all, and might not even be mute. Dustin must have shared a bond of life and death with this person to be deceived so thoroughly.

Max gave the prosthetic a brief glance, his expression unreadable. "I understand."

He wasn't surprised in the least. Infinity Brilliance had made numerous enemies worldwide, yet Dustin had thrived all these years. He wasn't careless. On the contrary, е he was cautious, but his

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was a

disappearance meant

betrayer in his midst. And it was someone he never would have suspected.

"Sir, should we still meet with the professor?"

Max's eyes narrowed, a deep glimmer within them. "No need. We're heading back home."

He looked at the prosthetic scars again, his lips tightening slightly. Patrick couldn't guess what he was thinking, but Max's choice to return home so promptly surely meant he had a plan.