Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 13

Brielle dismissed the barrage of notifications on her phone with a flick of her thumb, “Patrick, could you stop at the next intersection, please?” Her tone was indifferent, laced with a weariness that seemed to seep into the bir around her.

Through the rearview mirror, Patrick tried to glean some sort of cue from Max’s expression, a sign of what he might be thinking, but his face was impassive. As they reached the crossroads, he obeyed the request and brought the car to a smooth halt.

Brielle clutched the box a little tighter, a flicker of disappointment crossing her mind. She had half-expected Max to ask her to stay, but he remained seated, his demeanor as detached as a statue devoid of emotion.

“Uncle Max, not even a goodbye?” she teased, resting against the window, her long hair falling around her face, making it seem even smaller. Her eyes caught the reflection of the vibrant streetlights, beautiful and clear. She was just joking, and before waiting for a response, she walked across the pedestrian walkway, carrying her box.

Max watched her in silence, his gaze lingering long after she’d faded from view.

She was like a wounded animal, licking its injuries alone, trying to bristle with soft spines to protect the last remnants of its.dignity amidst the turmoil.

Brielle walked with her back straight, only slowing her pace when she was out of the reach of that penetrating gaze.

Her apartment was close by. The chill of the evening breeze was just what she needed. Hope only bred greater disappointment.

The ringtone of her phone cut through her thoughts. It was Spencer calling this time. Anxious about not receiving an apology from her, his impatience was palpable.

Brielle snorted softly and promptly blocked his number.

Soon after, Lillian’s call came through. Probably Spencer again. Those two were inseparable. Another number blocked.

but noticed a new email in her inbox instead, an offer

widened in disbelief as she

message.

being

There was a hint of trepidation,

16.05

He sent it from the car? Imagining him with a stern face, typing each word of this email. Brielle’s lips curved up, and

–[Reward.]

terse response, yet it oddly warmed her

Max, is this you playing

fireworks. She had left feeling suffocated, and now she

Haywood families could wait. For now, the thrill of the moment was what

no further replies, she was surprised to receive

in her thirteen years with the Haywood

comparison made the disappointment more glaring. Spencer was nothing, not even

am ready to devote myself entirely to

sense of mischief, enjoying this odd game they played. Max seemed to have

job search tab and ordered some late-night comfort food,

out of the shower, the doorbell

the door. The man on the doorstep

tighter, the collar barely hiding the marks

What was he doing