Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle was cradled in Max’s arms as they exited the Rowland estate, her head buried in his chest, drawing in a bit of warmth. The night breeze carried a chill, but the sanctuary of his embrace was like a shelter from the storm.

Love could lead one astray, and she feared the fall. Just this once, she’d indulge herself.

Silently, she resolved to rely on him, if only for a moment.

Max gently placed her in the passenger seat and leaned over to buckle her seatbelt. “I’ll take you to the hospital.” This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

“It’s okay. Aside from a few slaps to the face, I’m fine.”

There was a tense shadow in Max’s eyes, but his fingers tenderly grazed her cheek. “Who did this?”

It was Sophia who had struck her, but Brielle was a woman of her word. Since Sophia had chosen her as a partner, she couldn’t very well turn around and retaliate without mercy. Partnerships were built on trust.

“Let’s just say I slapped myself.”

Exhausted, she closed her eyes, feeling the sting on her wrist.

She expected Max to start the car immediately, but in her daze, she heard him call out earnestly, “Brielle.”

Blearily opening her eyes, she realized they were already at the hospital. Two doctors tended to her wrist, and she was on the verge of passing out from a raging fever.

Lips parched, a cup of lukewarm water was brought to her. She licked her dry lips, intending to drink, but the fever had sapped all her strength. Something soft touched her lips, and then the water trickled into her mouth.

The man’s face was close, and Brielle felt her cheeks grow even hotter, closing her eyes again to escape from this intimacy.

After Max helped her drink, he watched the doctors finish bandaging her up and insert an IV into the back of her hand. Once done, he stepped back, orderly and calm.

Max sat by the bedside, wiping her sweat away with a tissue. Brielle’s skin was so delicate, she looked like a porcelain doll broken and discarded. Max still couldn’t understand the palpitations he felt upon seeing her, a sensation alien to him, leaving him adrift in confusion.

Dawn brought the first light, and he had not slept all night when his phone rang. Rubbing his aching temples, he saw the call was from overseas, from Alivia. His brow furrowed.

After answering, he placed the phone aside, moistening Brielle’s lips with a cotton swab as he inquired about the situation on the other end.

“Max, your mother’s condition has worsened. She collapsed last night and has been calling out for you. I wanted to wait until after the emergency treatment to call, but the doctors suggested I inform the family sooner. Do you want to come over?”

Max felt a jolt in his heart and stood up abruptly, but leaving Brielle alone was not an option, so he called Andrew.

Andrew had spent the night at the Rowland estate and was surprised to receive Max’s call. As soon as he picked up, Max asked, “What’s Aubree’s number?”

Annoyed, Andrew hung up. Within three seconds, he begrudgingly sent the number.

Max called Aubree, asking her to take care of Brielle for a while. After arranging everything, he brushed back Brielle’s hair and kissed her forehead before asking Patrick to book a flight.

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No sooner had Max left than Brielle slowly opened her eyes, gazing blankly at the white ceiling. She had overheard the call from Alivia.

The ties between Alivia and Max were too deep to sever with a single cut. And perhaps Max had never intended to cut them at all.

Brielle sighed, and fatigue soon pulled her back into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, Alivia, learning that Max would soon leave the country, called Noah. “Noah, remember what you promised me? Take down Brielle within a week

Noah’s voice crackled with eagerness as he nodded, “I’m on it. I’ve got the news already. Brielle’s, in the hospital as we speak, vulnerable.”

Alivia smiled, “Good. I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do.”