Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle woke up at eleven, the familiar ceiling above her coaxing her into reality. It wasn’t a dream. Max hadn’t left on a business trip–he had shown up at the police station last night. Was it because of her?

She swung her legs out of bed, wincing as her feet touched the cold floor. The sting from her cuts reminded her of the night’s events. She spotted a cane nearby, left there just for her, and gratefully grabbed it to support her unsteady steps.

The house was quiet as she hobbled to the study. Max was there, as she knew he would be, deep in a virtual meeting.

Brielle gently pushed the door open and heard a voice from the meeting.

“The new documents have been sent down. We’ve incorporated Ms. Haywood’s 8120 principle and the 2N rule into our management system. The first draft has been emailed to you, sir.” All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Max was silent, his microphone off. Sensing her presence, he paused but didn’t turn around, as if he knew it was her.

Brielle limped closer. “Uncle Max, were you planning to discuss a takeover deal last night?”

“Mhm.”

Max skimmed through the emails, nodding in approval at the content before typing a response.

“So why did you come back? I could have handled the stuff at the police station on my own.” She tried to sound casual, settling herself onto a nearby couch.

“And by handling it, you mean letting your wounds bleed without bandaging them?” Max’s voice was laced with concern. If he hadn’t arrived when he did, the injury could have become infected.

Brielle felt a warmth in her chest and avoided his gaze. “I didn’t feel the pain.”

Because what hurt and frightened her more was the inner turmoil, the loneliness of being abandoned by the whole world, grinding at the heart like serrated edges.

“Was last night your way of ‘defending a lady’s honor‘?” she asked, her long lashes fluttering like the wings of a bird, too fragile and touching.

Max tried to ignore the unusual stirrings in his heart, keeping his eyes on the screen as he wrapped up the

meeting.

Defending a lady’s honor? His emotions had peaked last night, but not to that extent.

Before he could respond, there was a knock on the door. Andrew had arrived.

Brielle raised an eyebrow, almost instantly guessing why Andrew was here. She got up, using the cane and the wall for support, and started towards the door. Máx, seeing she didn’t intend to lean on him, left the room with a quick stride, leaving her behind.

Oblivious to his irritation, Brielle finally made it downstairs to find Andrew nursing a cup of coffee.

“Little Canary, what happened to your leg?” he teased as Brielle settled into a chair beside him.

“Are you here about the Rowland family issue?”

“Yes. Sophia is involved. She’s close to Tessa, who asked me to come see you.”

Brielle looked down, focusing on her toes. “I heard it’s not just the Rowland family involved, but the Hatfield family too.”

The police station had made it clear last night that the Hatfield family played a part. Yet, Brielle had never crossed either family. Why do they target her now?

Andrew leaned back, nodding lazily. “You must know her–Emily, the Hatfield family’s daughter who works at

15:09

Dorsey International.”

Realization dawned on Brielle. She had sensed Emily’s hostility these past days but hadn’t dwelt on it. “I’ve hardly interacted with them. There must be someone else behind this.”

Andrew chuckled, casting a glance at Max silently sipping his coffee. It seemed Max was leaving the decision–making to Brielle.

“How should I know? I’m just here because of Tessa.”

His certainty struck Brielle. Not for herself, but for Aubree.