Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 171 g out, gently brushing her lips with his fingers.

Only he had seen this side of Brielle.

Only he.

He couldn’t help but recall the words he once said to her–love was but an illusion under the influence of dopamine.

Yet his dopamine levels were insatiable, as if craving more.

Was that even reasonable?

He didn’t understand, but clearly, he had no desire to stop.

He shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over Brielle.

The moment the jacket obscured her vision, Spencer rounded the corner of the floral wall.

Fury was written all over Spencer’s face. He still had many questions unanswered. He wanted to know if Brielle had deliberately set up Lillian, and he had to make it clear to Brielle that he had no regrets whatsoever.

Even if Brielle won tonight, it wouldn’t change the fact of her humble origins.

She was beneath him. Forever unworthy!

Spencer caught sight of the scene before him, and his angry mind was suddenly doused with cold water, bringing him back to his senses.

He saw his Uncle Max pressing a woman against the wall, her figure mostly obscured by his jacket, only her slender legs visible. Her face was hidden, and Max, who was the talk of everyone, was now biting her lip, even emitting faint sounds of pleasure.

Perhaps disturbed in his moment of enjoyment. Max looked up with a voice cold as ice. “Scram.”

Spencer felt as if he’d been struck by lightning, retreating in disbelief, not daring to look again.. He hurried back the way he came, his footsteps in disarray.

Uncle Max with a woman?

14.09

Uncle Max kissing a woman in public?

His mind was a whirlwind of confusion, not understanding the fear and panic welling up inside him, his back breaking out in sweat.

Meanwhile, inside the floral enclosure, Brielle heard the footsteps recede and slowly opened

her eyes.

Their first night together, she had experienced his prowess.

That dominance, that thrilling heat that reached her very core, was like a wildfire sweeping across a prairie..

This kiss would likely be unforgettable for her entire life, melting into the taste of wine, blending with the enchanting glow of the lights.

The playful smile in the corner of his eyes gripped her heart.

Suddenly scooped up in his arms, she hid under his suit jacket as he carried her path.

The car outside had been waiting, the privacy screen tastefully lowered.

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Kissed senseless by him, Brielle’s thoughts were scattered, even forgetting that Patrick was in the front, and this was happening in a car.

She shamelessly felt that she would willingly die in this kiss.

The car stopped at the Premier Palace, and she remained nestled in his embrace.

Once in the master bedroom, she was set on the bed, and soon the room’s temperature soared. Her toes curled from the pleasure, and she couldn’t help but want to cry out his name.

In the haze, his eyelids lifted slightly, revealing the full arc of his eyes, indifferent, yet filled with a sensual charm.

The contour of his jaw was sleek and elongated, and every bit of him seemed sculpted by divine hands.

She couldn’t stop caring for him, b

ut what were they to each other?

She seemed to be just a little pet he kept in good humor.

Such piercing reality was unbearable.

Yet the fall was irresistible.

It wasn’t until the early hours that it all came to an end.

Brielle lay on the familiar bed, inhaling his scent, but her heart felt hollow.

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She reached out a finger, longing to trace his handsome, sleeping features. T

hen his phone rang, and seeing his brows furrow, she quickly closed her eyes, pretending to be deep in sleep.

She slowed her breathing, feeling him stir, his pleasing voice speaking. “Alivia, what’s up?”

Like a bucket of ice water poured over her, Brielle buried her face in the soft duvet, feeling as if her heart was being pierced with pain.