Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Lillian felt like her chest was on fire, itching to bolt out the door right then and there. She caught the faintest sound outside her room and perked up her ears, then slowly rose to her feet.

The hallway was dimly lit, casting a gloomy pallor as someone entered. Because of the backlight, she couldn’t see the face clearly, but she felt a murderous aura emanating from the person in front. She recoiled in fear, her voice rising for a scream. However, her mouth was swiftly covered, and in the dead of night, a dagger glinted coldly as it swiftly severed three of her fingers.

Lillian, sweating in agony, forgot to scream, and simply passed out from the pain. The man collected her fingers carefully, placing them in a box he had prepared.

As Lillian lost consciousness, her mind was a whirl of terror and rage. Who could it be? Who would commit such violence in a police station.

Was it Max? Was it Brielle, sending Max’s man to assassinate her? Those snakes! She’d make them pay once she got out! Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

The next morning, as Brielle awoke, she found herself still in the hospital.

Aubree had prepared a nourishing soup for her, placing it in her hands as she came to. “Eat up. I got up at the crack of dawn to make this.”

Brielle managed a pale smile, looking even more wan. Seeing Brielle like this, Aubree felt a twinge of pity, especially recalling that phone call she made to Max, and began to comfort her.

“Bri, you were dreaming.”

Brielle blinked in confusion, hoping she hadn’t said anything strange, but Aubree’s expression made her uncertain.

Aubree’s lips were pressed tight, and after a long sigh, she said, “Seems like you know what you dreamed about.”

Brielle’s grip on the bedsheets tightened. Of course, she knew. She dreamed of Max, holding Alivia as they walked into a grand hall. She dreamed Max looked at her with scorn, telling her not to flatter herself with delusions.

She cried throughout the dream, even asking that question. “Did you ever care for me at all?”

“Never.”

What he said was more devastating than any bombshell, shredding her dream–self to pieces.

She’s awake now,and all that remained was embarrassment. How could she have such a dream, and Aubree had caught her red–handed.

She opened her mouth to defend herself, only to hear Aubree say, “You were crying and calling out Max’s name.”

Aubree didn’t allow her any room to retreat, forcefully exposing her hidden thoughts. Brielle felt every pore on her body sweating, her palms clammy. “Aubree, it was just a nightmare.” She offered a feeble defense.

Aubree snorted, particularly irritated thinking of Max’s dismissive attitude on the phone. “A nightmare? What, did you dream Max ran off with another woman?”

The accusation hit home. Brielle’s grip on the blanket tightened, her teeth biting into her lip.

Aubree exhaled a sigh, not wanting to be harsh. Max hadn’t even shown his hand yet, and Brielle was already losing her heart. She couldn’t outplay Max, who, at sixteen, was already a Wall Street shark capable of maneuvering her like a pawn.

Max was far more formidable than Andrew.

Aubree’s face was stern. “Bri, I only now realize half your pain is from your leg, the other half is Max. But there’s no future there. Once you’re better, just focus on work. Keep busy, like you told me, and you’ll forget him.”

Brielle’s hand stiffened, her lips pressed. Tthere was no point in hiding any longer. “Max gave me a card. If it was about the money, maybe I wouldn’t have to work for the rest of my life.”

Aubree heard the bitterness in her voice, placing her hands on Brielle’s shoulders. “Then go travel. It’s just a man, and you’ll forget about him soon enough.”

Her words lacked conviction; after all, with the way Andrew treated her, she was still head over heels for him.

Brielle’s, lashes dropped, her eyes warming, “Aubree, what really is “love“?”

The question echoed one Max had asked Kenzo. What was love?

She’d been engaged once, and now she was asking this, it seemed she’d never understood what it meant to love.

Aubree paused, reflecting. “Didn’t you love Spencer once?”

I

“I don’t know, I just felt that since he was my fiancé, the one I was supposed to spend my life with, I should be good to him.”

They had known each other for years. But did she really love Spencer?

The emotions she felt back then were nothing compared to what she felt last night. Just seeing Max, just smelling his scent, made her eyes burn and her nose tingle.

Maybe because she’d never really cared for someone before, she needed to know if what she felt for Max was real.

Aubree sat by the hospital bed, silently setting out some snacks, and after a while, in a hoarse voice said, “Love is superficial, so much so that a drink can drown it, a good sleep can end it. Not understanding it is no big deal

“Is that so?”

Brielle asked only that, then began to sip her soup in silence.