Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 334

Max was cautious around her wounds, not daring to let her soak in the bath for too long. He washed her swiftly, then carefully lifted her and placed her on the bed.

After ensuring she was settled, he turned and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower himself. He emerged shortly after, pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms and tying the drawstring at his waist. His physique was striking–broad shoulders, narrow waist–and as water dripped from his damp hair, he exuded an undeniable allure.

A knock came at the door. It was Wesley. “Sir, Ms. Alivia has called. She seems quite anxious and hopes you can join her abroad as soon as possible.”

Max paused in the act of drying his hair and opened the door to issue a command, “Fetch some antiseptic cream.”

Wesley nodded, and within a minute, he handed the cream to Max.

Max turned back, taking hold of Brielle’s foot, and gently applied the ointment to the fine cuts that had not become inflamed after soaking. After smoothing the cream over her wounds and additional spots on her legs, he went to wash his hands. Upon his return, his phone rang. He answered, massaging his temple, which throbbed with tension.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in two hours.”

He hung up and looked down at Brielle, whose dark hair fanned across the pillow, contrasting with her skin like a fallen fairy in the night.

Max swallowed hard and called out

“Brielle?”

gaze quietly meeting his. No words were exchanged, just

Her eyes misted over as she looked at Max. The tips of her lashes

closer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He intended to leave after that simple gesture, but Brielle bit down on his fingertip. There was a tiny imprint where her teeth had been, and then, tilting her head,

deeply, attempting to pull away. But she wrapped her arms around his waist, and her lips found the

as blooming blossoms. He leaned in,

“Mmm,” she managed, unable to

Chapter 334

of falling backward, Brielle clung

was a deep, raspy whisper,

mind had come rushing back, and she was fully aware of what she

timber. Eventually, Brielle

paused, pushing her hair aside and taking her wrist in his hand, tracing upward

upward curl of her lashes looked like a dangerously intoxicating bloom, sharp and

wait for me to come back,” he

at him; her long lashes were reminiscent of a bird’s feathers. Max dropped his gaze