Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 358

“No? Really?”

Max echoed the words, but with a different inflection that carried a tinge of amusement.

“Yeah.”

The next moment, he chuckled softly, resting his chin lightly on her shoulder while maintaining their close embrace. His hair brushed against Brielle’s cheek, making her feel as if her heart had melted into a warm puddle.

In the past, she would have found it hard to imagine Max being so affectionate with a woman. Even during their few lovemakings, he had always been in absolute control, perhaps indulgent at times but never as tender as he was now.

Sitting in his arms with her cheeks flushing, Brielle gazed out at the snowflakes dancing in the air and thought to herself, “This must be what being together feels like.”

The thought of being with Max filled her with an indescribable sweetness.

A knock on the door drew Brielle out of Max’s embrace, and she settled herself on a nearby chair.

Patrick walked in and immediately noticed the black beads around Brielle’s wrist, his eyes betraying a flash of surprise. “Mr. Dorsey, Ms. Brielle, I’ve ordered breakfast. It should arrive in about ten minutes.”

those black beads meant to Max. To everyone in the Beaconsfield elite, the beads were synonymous with Max, and his austere demeanor earned him the nickname “The Priest.” Her fingers

a strange sense of satisfaction. Perhaps admitting his fondness for Brielle had torn down some psychological barrier because

felt like, he was certain about one thing – Brielle was different, and others

was somewhat superfluous at the moment, discreetly made

a cart laden with an array of exquisite dishes. Wearing pristine white

all night, Brielle’s hunger had returned with

boiled egg, and a side of vegetable salad. She was a picky eater and left the carrots untouched in her salad. She favored plain oatmeal and did not even touch the sweet or savory options.

Chapter 358

her preferences. When Brielle finally set her spoon down, Max frowned slightly, concerned she hadn’t eaten enough.

his gaze, and despite the familiarity of his face, she still felt a thrill each time

a rare blossom, cold and translucent. Suddenly, the image of his expression shifting from icy detachment to fiercely

night sky. “Brielle, what’s on your

abruptly remembered how low the neckline of her nightgown was. Had Patrick seen the marks there? A wave of annoyance washed over her.

you know William is handling

most

to clear the table, and then he undid the top button of