Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

She sighed and was about to chuck her phone aside when a new message buzzed in. [Wesley mentioned you skipped dinner tonight?]

Brielle's nose tingled as she read the message, a lump forming in her throat.

[Brielle, where are you?]

He was asking why she wasn't cozied up at Premier Palace. She was about to respond when Max sent another text. [Don't believe anything Victoria told you.] Clearly, Wesley had spilled the beans to Max about Victoria's visit to Premier Palace, prompting this message at such a critical moment.

Brielle tasted the bitterness in her mouth. [I'm just out for a walk, don't worry.]

After sending that, she felt at a loss for words, and Max didn't reply either. He was probably bogged down with his own affairs.

Max was indeed preoccupied. Martha had fainted again, with doctors monitoring her vitals continually.

If Martha didn't pull through in the ICU, she'd be more than just a vegetable. The doctors had the family brace for the worst.

Martha had woken several times, only ever seeing Alivia, and no one knew what was exchanged between them.

For this reason, Alivia had remained at the nursing home. Her mood was soaring, but she kept a facade of utmost despair.

She approached Max, who stoodsolemnly outside the ICU. "Max, you should eat something," she soothed gently. "You won't last if you keep this up."

Max's brow furrowed slightly before he glanced back at the ICU and finally turned toward the dining room.

The table was laden with his favorites. Alivia sat opposite him, careful to mask any hint of joy. "The chefs made all our favorites. Martha might be here for a while, so let's make sure we have the energy to take care of her." Max nodded, not cold or dismissive, since Alivia was always so devoted to Martha's care.

Alivia watched him dine with refined ease, the gleam from his cufflinks intoxicating her.

These moments of dining face-to-face with Max were rare, without the intrusion of others. Her heart swelled, a smile betraying her control.

Just a little longer, and her patience would pay off.

Annie and Martha were pawns in her game. They were playing their roles and driving a wedge between Max and Brielle.

Alivia was so close to Max now. If she stayed at the nursing home, wouldn't he grow fond of her over time?

She loved Max and was the only one who truly deserved him. All of Beaconsfield seemed to be on her side; what chance did Brielle have?

Max ate with elegance as Alivia watched. He never gave her a glance. The nursing home's dining room was meant for guests like them There was no need for special arrangements. It would seem petty.

After dinner, Max thought of Brielle, who'd left Premier Palace without a bite. His concern creased his forehead.

He couldn't resist, pulling out his phone to call her.

Brielle didn't pick up. She was exhausted and asleep on the couch.

"Patrick." Max's voice summoned Patrick from the shadows. "Find out where Brielle is. Take her some dinner and grab some antacids."

Her stomach troubles flared up now and then. She should take care, regardless of her spirit.

Patrick bowed respectfully. "Right away, sir."

Alivia, seated across from Max, felt a е surge of rage at his explicit concern for Brielle. It was infuriating how he still cared about whether Brielle had eaten.

wn

Her lips turned white from the pressure of her bite, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth.

Jealousy reddened her eyes, and she had half a mind to overturn the table.

She had thought Max was indifferent to love, but she was wrong. His heart had been a blank canvas, reserved solely for Brielle.

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To be loved by a man like Max was

to be the luckiest woman alive. He was fiercely loyal, to the point where nothing else mattered but Brielle.

That infuriating, despicable wretch!