Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

"Get lost!"

The words spewed from his lips for the second time as he shoved the figure away from him.

Alivia tumbled to the floor with a thud, her elbow swelling with pain from the impact. Tonight was her golden opportunity. The room was locked tight, and Max was under the influence of two different meds. If she couldn't take him down now, she'd be facing his complete disdain in the future.

"Max!"

Max had already grabbed a chair next to him, hurling it at the room's window.

No wonder he'd felt uneasy since entering the room. The door and windows were sealed shut. His palms were smeared with blood, a testament to his forceful action that shattered the window.

Glass shards littered the floor as Alivia's cries turned into screams.

The butler had chosen a ground-floor room for him that night, and with his long legs, Max vaulted out with ease. He didn't look back at Alivia. He just felt utterly disgusted.

He had never experienced such revulsion before.

Max stumbled a few steps forward and finally encountered Patrick.

Patrick quickly steadied him, his eyes wide with shock. "Sir?"

"Take me back to Premier Palace."

Patrick nodded vigorously, a flicker of anger in his eyes. Had they been played?

While the Dorsey family mourned the death of Martha, some distant relative was pushing Michael for a new girl while someone else drugged Max.

What a filthy nest the upper crust turned out to be.

Sometimes, the pinnacle of education, resources, and wealth didn't equate to perfection. In such circles, privilege was taken for granted from the moment it was enjoyed, with flattery and societal favor becoming expectations. Humanity fades, and personal gain takes the throne.

Max settled into the car, a wave of unease washing over him. His forehead was slick with sweat, both hot and uncomfortable.

When he pulled out his phone, the sight of Brielle's call log made his vision swim.

It had to be a trick, right?

She was so heartless and had even rejected his whispers of a secret relationship. Why on earth would she reach out to him?

Brielle's heart was colder than

anyone's Her time with him was solely to get back at Spencer. He was nothing but a blunt instrument, a tool for her vendetta against the Dorsey family. en FindNovel

Max blinked away the haze, resisting the urge to look closer, yet his trembling fingers dialed the number anyway. The phone was off.

At least he wasn't blocked. He had half-expected her to cut off all contact after her ruthless goodbye.

Thinking back on the day's events, a bitter smile spread across Max's lips.

He had hoped to keep their only connection through Stellar Stage Entertainment, only to learn that it had become a privately-held company, free from Dorsey O International's clutches.

Who else could orchestrate such a move but Brielle?

She had laid her plans well in advance. Was this her escape route?

Max felt a surge of rage that came from being used and then callously discarded. If it was all about him, why couldn't she do it thoroughly?

She could use him for a lifetime.

moving

But for Brielle, there was probably never a thought of a lifetime.

That ruthless woman...

Max closed his eyes, his chest heaving with a turmoil that refused to settle.

The heat of his body, coupled with the chill that spread through him at thoughts of Brielle, tormented him.

He leaned back in the car seat, finally instructing Patrick. "Patrick, track down Brielle's location."

Nowadays, hardly anyone turned off their phone unless something was up.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

What if something had happened to her? He couldn't gamble on that one-in-a-million chance.

Max closed his eyes, feeling a warmth that wasn't just from the fever.

He could never harden his heart against Brielle, yet she showed him no mercy.