Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 414

Max had never truly understood the notions of fondness or yearning. His life was a constant climb, an unending quest for achievement, with scant regard for the journey’s joys.

He was a man devoid of excess emotion; even during the year Martha descended into madness, he remained stoic.

His father always said he was born to do business. But now, a curious new sentiment was taking root within him, warming him to the core and leaving him utterly disconcerted. He didn’t recognize this feeling as shyness; rather, it felt as if every pore was radiating heat. So, he never did utter the words, “because I found you.

His tone was even, and through the screen, Brielle couldn’t see the expression that played upon his face, but for Max, even in the midst of a tempest, one would be hard–pressed to see him furrow his brow.

Brielle paused, ensuring the trash bag was securely tied before heading downstairs. “I know.”

Ever since Max had given her that rosary, she had a hunch about his feelings. But now, things were different. She glanced down at her belly and thought it wasn’t the right time.

Her world was in utter disarray.

“Brielle, is your loss of appetite because you’re… jealous?” It was rare for Max, a man seemingly oblivious to the throes of love, to even recognize the concept of jealousy.

“No. I just need some rest.”

The hint of a smile in Max’s eyes faded slightly. Was she not jealous? He furrowed his brow. wondering if Brielle really liked him. Wouldn’t she feel uneasy knowing he was getting close to another woman?

won’t be affected

she truly felt no twinge of jealousy, he felt oddly deflated. This must’ve been what Andrew meant by ‘torture.”

as you trust me, that’s all

pursed his lips, a

in the dinner cart, and he followed them inside. Martha hadn’t rested long before she was

was spacious, with a large dining table by the

a

noting Alivia’s absence, and frowned. “Where’s Alivia?

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Chapter 414

stay for dinner? After all these years, you still have

a bowl of soup. “Aunt Martha, don’t blame Max. I wanted to make you some soup to help you

a reproachful glance at Max. “What are you waiting for? Max, go help her.”

face remained impassive; he didn’t refuse but took the soup from Alivia’s hands.

she heard Max say. “As I’ve said before, soup–making is

look of hurt

wife. She quickly took Alivia’s hand, blowing on it affectionately. “Don’t mind Max’s nonsense. I’m truly