Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 531

telle nibbled at a sandwich, her fingers dancing through the yarn as she knitted a scarf into the wee hours of the morning. It wasn’t until then that she finally drifted off into a fitful sleep. her dreams a tangled mix of Max and visions of him with other women.

When she woke, it was already noon the next day, and Max still hadn’t returned. After freshening up, she couldn’t resist the urge to call him, but there was no answer on the other

1. nd. Her heart hung suspended, heavy with worry. She tried Patrick next, but all he said was that they were a bit tied up.

Restlessly. Brielle waited until six in the evening when Max’s car finally pulled up to the front of Premier Palace. She hurried outside and opened the car door to find Max leaning back in his seat, his eyes closed, a picture of exhaustion but, thankfully, unharmed. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Slipping into the car, she took his hand, intertwining their fingers firmly. Max’s eyelashes fluttered, and he turned to look at her, pulling her into an embrace. They rode in silence.

Brielle wracked her brain, even wondering if she had done anything in the past couple of days. to upset him. After meticulously dissecting the recent events, she couldn’t pinpoint anything. she might’ve done wrong.

Upon arriving at the Dorsey familt’s old mansion, the butler was already waiting at the door. “Sir, Ms. Brielle, Mr. Michael has been expecting you,” he announced.

Brielle instantly gathered her wits, clutching Max’s hand a little tighter.

them evident. Seeing his state only. heightened her concern. What had Max been up to these past two

her hair. “Don’t be nervous.”

got to face this,” she murmured. She hadn’t seen him in over a day and couldn’t help herself; she tiptoed to wrap her arms around his neck. But Max stepped

moment, feeling as if a bucket of icy water had been poured

her heart.

any sign of what was

smile. “Alright, let’s go

two approach and opened the door as they

were seated on either side. As Brielle stepped in, she felt Spencer’s piercing gaze upon her. He looked gaunt, as if he’d lost a

Chart

a mad

be in his forties, dressed in a sharp black suit, hands folded across hist midsection, his expression somewhat indifferent. Victoria’s hand rested on his arm, clearly trying to draw closer, but

were others whose identities she didn’t know–likely elders from the broader family branches. Their eyes were all on her, and the distant relatives chuckled coldly,

feel like a family dinner; it felt more like Brielle was on trial.

the butler to prepare a seat for Brielle. The butler quickly pushed a single chair forward, indicating Max would