Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Aubree was like a wounded animal, desperately distancing herself from Andrew, clutching at Ricardo’s jeans as if begging for refuge. Her reason had fled, and all she sought was a place to hide.

Ricardo was indifferent to the tangled mess between the two. In fact, he should have relished their agony. He was far from a savior. However, he crouched down, grabbed a tissue from a nearby table, and gently wiped the tears from Aubree’s cheeks.

Her tears were relentless, like a broken faucet that couldn’t be turned off. Ricardo frowned, looking at Andrew. He was about to speak, but Aubree wrapped her arms around his waist and buried herself into his embrace.

Ricardo’s expression darkened instantly, the switchblade in his sleeve twitching with anticipation. This was uncomfortable.

Suppressing the urge to lash out, he took a deep breath and offered Andrew a mocking smile, but to Andrew, that smile was a challenge. The last shred of Andrew’s composure vanished, and in a rage, he grabbed Aubree’s hair and pinned her down on the couch.

“Aubree, have you lost your damn mind?!” he bellowed. “Are you freaking crazy?!”

She had thrown herself at another man right in front of him.

Aubree’s head hit the couch hard, dizziness swirling within her, and nausea rising up again.

Andrew’s next words hit her like a stun gun. “You’re so desperate, huh? Will anyone do? How slutty can you

be?”

Aubree bit her lip, tears streaming down her face. She had no energy to struggle, just like that day. After fighting back, all that remained was numbness.

The buttons on her blouse were torn open, and Andrew’s teeth sunk into her skin. “You’ve been mine for years. How could you go to someone else? It’s disgusting, isn’t it?!”

Suddenly, a glass bottle shattered over Andrew’s head. Ricardo had let go of the bottle, now looking with a furrowed brow as blood streamed from Andrew’s scalp.

Andrew stiffened, nearly passing out from the pain. Regardless, he managed to kiss Aubree forcefully.

Aubree didn’t respond with a smile as she used to. Instead, she just cried harder.

Minutes dragged by and the pain coursing through Andrew’s body remained relentless. How he yearned for the solace he once found in her passionate cries, calling out his name uncontrollably. Whenever she did, the pain would ebbed away, if only a little.

He closed his eyes, releasing her mouth. “Tell your lover to get lost!”

Ricardo stood behind them, a headache brewing. He truly believed Andrew had a death wish, Was a woman’s allure worth all this fuss? After that hit, Andrew must’ve not been thinking straight, but he was still forcing kisses on Aubree. Exclusive content from NôvelDrama.Org.

Ricardo pulled out his phone, saw a call from Brielle, and breathed a sigh of relief. He approached Andrew and grabbed his collar, ready to throw a punch.

This guy was really a pain.

Andrew was no slouch himself, and even with injuries, he managed to exchange blows with Ricardo amidst the chaos of the room.

Ricardo’s arm was grazed, drawing blood.

Aubree lay on the couch. Her eyes finally moved as she saw Andrew reaching for the switchblade, aiming for Ricardo’s shoulder. Stimulated by something unknown, Aubree grabbed the broken bottle neck Ricardo had dropped and stabbed Andrew’s palm.

Andrew’s face turned pale, staring at her in disbelief. His head buzzed, his heart aching, struggling to

breathe.

He watched as Aubree trembled, checked Ricardo’s shoulder, and asked if he was okay in a hoarse voice.

“She must be blind,” he thought. How could she not see that he was hurt, too?

Andrew felt heat behind his eyes. He resisted the urge to collapse and just stared unblinkingly at Aubree.

Aubree was helping Ricardo, who seemed unharmed, to sit down beside her.

Ricardo was surprised Aubree had acted. Given Andrew’s weakened state, Ricardo could have dodged Andrew’s blow. However, a smile crossed Ricardo’s face, his inherent mischief aroused.

Staring at Aubree, he feigned weakness, “Aubree, I’m scared.” After the words, he flashed Andrew a taunting smile.

Andrew trembled with rage, his mind strangely clear amidst the pain. He vividly felt the sharp agony throughout his body and his eyes growing hot.

Aubree was tending to a man she hardly knew, leaving Andrew in the cold. He bit his lip, eyes growing hotter, and managed to say hoarsely, “Aubree, are you blind? Can’t you see I’m more hurt?”

The pain was too much. The Aubree before him was no longer the Aubree he knew. The Aubree of before would tremble at the sight of his blood, anxiously inquiring about the injury, not turning a cold shoulder as she did now.