Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle never imagined that returning home at the witching hour of 3 A.M. would lead to an encounter with Max right on her doorstep. Max was even being set up by the neighbor? The world seemed to be spinning its own surreal tale.

She hurriedly stepped forward, fumbling with her keys to unlock the door, while offering a strained smile and thanks to the neighbor. “Thanks a bunch, really, he’s good on his own. He’s a celibate, you know.

The neighbor was no fool and seemed eager to follow up. “A celibate at your place? Don’t you have a fiancé?”

Cursed be those times Spencer had made a spectacle of himself, making their relationship the talk of the town.

Caught off guard, Brielle managed to chuckle as she shut the door, “This is strictly between us, definitely not for my fiancé’s ears.”

Left on the doorstep. The neighbor’s face was a complex puzzle of emotions. Max’s looks were hard to ignore, and she couldn’t help but mutter, “Handsome lad, but what a shame about his choices. Even if you’re just arm candy, at least pick someone with deep pockets. Not many around here with fat wallets.”

Inside, Max sat silently on the sofa, his features clouded with discomfort.

Brielle, though sleepy, couldn’t help but find humor in the situation. She fetched a glass of water from the kitchen. “Sorry about that, Mr. Dorsey. She loves playing matchmaker. Guess she fancied your looks.”

Max looked up, squinting as he appraised her. Aside from the fatigue etched on her face, she revealed nothing else.

No sadness, no regret, no anger.

His heart seemed to clench inexplicably.

“Why would Mr. Dorsey come here? Is it related to Book company?”

Brielle certainly wouldn’t presume that Max came to see her. The first thing that came to her mind was Book. She had organized the information at that time. Could there be a problem with

the information?

She glanced at the wall clock; it was already half–past three in the morning. To discuss work at this hour, Max really was hard working.

A sharp look flashed in Max’s eyes, and the cold aura around his eyebrows was so icy that it could turn into white frost..

Mr. Dorsey? In private, she usually preferred to call him Uncle Max. But now, considering she needed to break off her engagement with Spencer, she couldn’t call him Uncle Max anymore?

Or perhaps, she wanted to end this relationship that should never have started.

He glanced down, his gaze falling on the black rosary around his wrist. His fingers delicately played with the beads, a sign his patience was wearing thin, Oddly enough, his chest felt tight,

He couldn’t help but glance at his chest, wondering it something was amiss, but his yearly medical exams always showed he was in top shape,

This feeling was foreign, tinged with a trace of Irritation.

Andrew had suggested this could be an opportunity to cut ties with Brielle, but Max felt the reality was the opposite. It’s as It Brielle wanted to use this chance to push him away. This realization froze his fingers mid–bead, a shadow crossing his eyes.

“Three in the morning, and I’m here at the home of a woman I’ve been involved with. Do your really think it’s about work?” His expression showed rare signs of exasperation as he casually loosened his tie, tilting his head back slightly. “What do you take me for?”

Brielle wasn’t listening closely, her mind busily sorting through her next moves. Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

The Haywood clan sought vengeance, Ryan wouldn’t let her off easy, Mark and the kids needed. her, and her colleagues at Dorsey International were not pleased with her. Tessa might be keeping tabs on her too. From every angle, she seemed surrounded by threats.

Maintaining her relationship with Max could save her a lot of trouble. At least until she could comfortably leave Beaconsfield, then she could afford to sever ties with him.

Having made up her mind, even in exhaustion, Brielle perched herself on his lap, softly pressing. her lips to his. Aubree was right. Max’s lips were too inviting, easy to get lost in, especially when he presented himself as hers for the taking. It was the kind of temptation that could drive a woman to ruin.

Brielle, tired as she was, took the lead momentarily before resting her forehead against his shoulder.

It was an invitation.