Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 671

Tessa flung herself into Andrew’s arms the moment she saw him, her voice tinged with urgency. “Andrew, let’s go home. I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

She had been truly terrified, afraid that Andrew would vanish again, afraid he would take Aubree upstairs to some sleazy hotel room. Thankfully, he came back.

Jaired was nursing a glass of whiskey, his eyes scanning the empty space behind Andrew as he asked, “Where’s your sister? Didn’t Tessa say you were chatting with her?”

A tremor of rage quaked through Andrew’s chest, his frustration threatening to break free. He yanked Tessa close and stormed out of the VIP lounge without a word.

Tessa tasted blood in her mouth, a bitter reminder of how quickly Andrew could discard her whenever Aubree was around. He left her alone and spent what felt like an eternity with her rival. What had they talked about?

Her teeth chattered with rage. Ever since the downfall of the Rowland family, she had been too scared to contact anyone else. Andrew was her only sanctuary from being outcast by their social circle.

She was haunted by nightmares where Andrew chose Aubree, who pities her with those sympathetic and patronizing eyes.

Tessa forced back the metallic taste of blood. She wouldn’t allow that scenario to play out, not even in death. She would be with Andrew no matter what.

Tonight was the night. Once they got home, she’d make sure to take their relationship to the next level. Then Andrew would never leave her. After all, she was untouched, while Aubree was nothing but a cast–off, someone people slept with and discarded! Andrew would surely choose Tessa.

that thought, Tessa masked her resentment

Andrew’s embrace.

their reflection in the elevator’s polished metal walls. The shadows of his rage, jealousy, and anger seemed to tear at each other, burning inside

Four.

already been with three

holding Tessa, trembling with unrestrained fury.

his arms, felt the storm of emotions raging within him. She bit down

11:41

the lounge.

nonchalant on the couch, “Did

Andrew’s head wound? I heard he ripped off the bandages and came

a camel–colored sweater. He’d been completely indifferent, even as Tessa wept

rose, untouched by the chaos around him. His tall, lean figure lounged on the sofa, exuding a lazy,

him, Jaired looked like a thorn, all rough edges and tension.

hospital and his injuries looking worse. Aren’t you the least

composed. But no one could outdo Kenzo’s stoicism. Different from Max’s coldness,