Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than the buzz of his cellphone broke the silence. After a surreptitious visit to the hospital last night, he had removed Brielle’s number from the blacklist. He’d spent the entire day with an eye on his phone.

A tiny glimmer of hope flickered in the recesses of his heart. However, when the phone actually rang, he froze, as if struck by a sudden spell.

The executives seemed accustomed to it by now as their gazes instinctively shifted towards him. NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

Max pulled out his phone, trying to convince himself it wouldn’t be Brielle. She probably wouldn’t be the first to reach out anymore. Despite his thoughts, he couldn’t help but look at the screen.

And there it was, a text from her.

His eyelashes fluttered once as he turned the screen face down on the table. He looked up at the executive delivering the report and said, “Continue.”

Whether it was the executive’s imagination or not, they felt as if the chill that usually surrounded their boss had thawed a bit. The mood in the conference room subtly shifted from the frost of early spring to the thaw of a stream just beginning to flow.

The executive’s report went on for an hour, and once it concluded, Max was the first to leave the room, heading straight for the elevator.

Patrick followed and had guessed who the message might’ve been from. Was the boss finally going to see Ms. Brielle?

Patrick didn’t know about the midnight visit and felt relieved at the prospect. He thought a spark of life had ignited in Max ever since he had met Brielle. Max no longer seemed so untouchable.

Max was undeniably noble, but also undeniably alone.

Unable to contain his urgency, Max quickened his pace, got into the car, and said to Patrick. “I’ll drive tonight. You can head back.”

Patrick, initially moving to take the wheel, nodded at Max’s words and turned to fetch another car from the garage.

Max settled into the driver’s seat and hesitated as he passed a bakery, contemplating.

After a moment, he decided against buying anything and drove directly to the apartment where Brielle used to live. It was where everything had begun for them, a place filled with significance, so it was not surprising when she chose to meet there.

Perhaps she had something important to say. Maybe she wanted to mend what was between them.

The apartment’s elevator was plastered with numerous small ads, a collage of offers and services that made the space feel even more cramped. As Max exited the elevator, he ran into Brielle’s former neighbor, Mrs. Thompson. Her eyes lit up at the sight of him.

“My, my, Brielle’s moved out, didn’t she tell you? I always said she was unreliable. She’s got a fiance, you know. Maybe you should give my niece a thought.”

Max’s lips twitched into a small smile. He was not cold as he usually was, but his presence was so imposing that Mrs. Thompson dared not say more, sighed, and gave up the match–making attempt.

Max was about to ring the doorbell when he noticed the door ajar. Surprise flickered in his eyes as he pushed it open and called out, “Brielle?”

The living room was empty, and its setup was unchanged from before. He stepped inside. closing the door behind him. “Brielle?”

After calling out once more, he heard a noise from the bedroom and breathed a sigh of relief as he approached.

The bedroom door was shut, and a faint scent hung in the air. Max stepped back, and his brow furrowed at the smell of gasoline.

What was Brielle planning?

He took out his phone and dialed her number. The ringtone echoed from within the room, but

the door was locked.

“Brielle!

Panic began to seep into his heart as he kicked the door open.

The smell of gasoline intensified, and a small lump was visible on the bed. Someone was curled beneath the covers, and the ringing phone was on the nightstand.

Max strode in quickly, pulling back the blanket. Underneath the blankets was a pillow. Then, a loud “bang” resounded from the living room.