Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

He delivered the words with a languid and enticing breath, stirring the soul. The winter sun chose that moment to bathe him in its light. All Alivia could feel was an irrepressible flutter of the heart. “Michael was livid last night. The doctors must have told him you’re awake by now, He’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”

Max stared out at the world draped in its wintry white, probably feeling the ache in his head. He raised a hand to rub his temples,

“Hmm.”

“Max, why don’t you rest some more?”

Max settled back into bed, not lying down completely but rather leaning against the headboard with his eyes slightly closed, seeming somewhat aloof.

His fingers subconsciously caressed the wrist where a rosary should have been, finding nothing. He withdrew his hand, and his lips pressed together coldly, like a tree encased in frost.

Alivia’s lips curled into a tender smile, her heart melting completely. This man was finally, utterly hers.

Half an hour later, Michael arrived.

Leaning on a cane, he looked worse for wear, obviously having had little sleep. With both a grandson and a son fighting for their lives, he couldn’t find rest.

Now, seeing Max awake, he let out a heavy sigh of relief. “It’s good to see you’re alright. I’ve made sure that Ryan and Faith are no longer in Beaconsfield, and they won’t be coming back.”

Max’s expression was muted, unreadable.

“You all just can’t seem to give me a break, not even Spencer. They didn’t get him out of surgery until the wee hours of the morning, and he’s still not awake.”

Michael had wanted to talk about Brielle, but seeing Max raise a hand to press at his temples.

he bit back his words.

“Father, I’m quite tired.”

Michael had no choice but to stand. “You rest up. I won’t let anyone disturb you for a while. Alivia insisted on staying by your side. You’re not getting any younger. Once you’ve recovered, we should finalize the wedding arrangements. It’s not fair to her to keep worrying about you like this, is it?”

Alivia, though thrilled on the inside, feigned hesitation outwardly. “Michael, there’s no rush. We’ll do things according to Max’s wishes.”

Michael grew more fond of Alivia by the minute. Both wanted to give Max space, so they left the

11-57

room together.

Just then, a doctor came to notify Michael that Spencer had awakened. Michael, intent on checking on his other grandson upstairs, set off with Alivia close behind. Spencer was her comrade, after all. She had crucial information to share.

Once inside the elevator, Allvia spoke up gently. “Michael, perhaps it’s best not to mention Spencer’s situation in front of Max. The doctors say he needs as little stress as possible right now, and since this involves Brielle… Well, Max does value Brielle’s professional skills, and it would only upset him.”

Her words served dual purposes: to keep Michael from bringing up Brielle in front of Max and to highlight that Brielle’s relationship with Max was purely professional, valued only for her skills.

Michael had had his suspicions about Max and Brielle, but hearing Alivia’s reassurances, he felt his doubts were perhaps misplaced. Max was a workaholic, and it was true that he held those who excelled professionally in high esteem. Brielle might’ve come from humble origins, but her talents were undeniable.

“Alivia, Max is blessed to have you.”

A glint of triumph flashed in Alivia’s eyes, but she kept silent, smiling to herself.

They reached Spencer’s room to find his head wrapped in several layers of bandages, now sitting up. His gaze was empty as he stared out the window.

“You fool!” Michael couldn’t contain his anger upon seeing his grandson in such a state. “You let a woman do this to you. You’ve really outdone yourself!”

Spencer’s face grew even paler, and his eyes rimmed with red. Brielle had truly meant to kill him, a fact that pained him deeply.

He admitted he was scum, having wronged her emotionally in the past, but he never wished her dead. Even as he lay close to losing consciousness under her assault, he thought perhaps it was better if they both died. If Brielle couldn’t be his, she shouldn’t belong to anyone else.

The hatred and panic in Brielle’s eyes were like thousands of needles, piercing straight into his Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

heart.

Before this catastrophe, he thought he was just resentful, but as he lay vaguely conscious in the emergency room, all he could think of was her.

He shouldn’t have treated her like this. How could he be such a bastard?

Where was Brielle now?

“Grandfather, what’s become of Brielle?” His first conscious thought was of her.

Upon hearing him inquire about Brielle, Michael’s expression darkened further. “Anyone who harms the Dorsey family will not get off easy. She’ll be spending the rest of her life behind bars. That much is certain.”

11:53

Spencer became frantic. “That won’t do. I still have to marry her.”