Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

"What's on your mind?" Max tilted her face towards him, scanning the confusion etched across her features, his brow furrowed in concern. "Something bothering you?" She was sitting right next to him, close enough for him to quickly pick up on her mood shifts.

Brielle shook her head as a grape popped into her mouth. It was sweet, a burst of sweetness that reached deep into her soul.

"Is it about that TV show crew?" Max's tone was casual as he continued, "I'll have Patrick prepare, and we'll acquire the sponsor of this production team."

Brielle found it amusing, but as she laughed, she pursed her lips and felt a hint of bitterness. "Now there's going to be even more talk about me not being good enough for you." She had let her innermost thoughts slip out without intending to.

Max fell silent. He was looking down, his high nose bridge prominent, his forehead slightly covered by his naturally falling hair, partially concealing his eyes.

Brielle wanted to say something to ease the tension, but her throat tightened. What could she say?

After all, wasn't there some truth to her words?

"Brielle." Max called her name.

"Yeah?"

"Hungry?" "No."

"Good."

She wanted to ask what he meant by that, but in the next moment, she was swept up in his arms, her hands instinctively wrapping around his neck.

When she realized what he intended, her cheeks flushed, "Aren't we about to have dinner?"

master bedroom and gently laying her

off, he leaned

heard him say huskily, "Others may

way. Brielle was just Brielle,

made it into his eyes and heart proved that she was

to her lips, light as a feather,

as you want, from now on, I'm

through Brielle's heart. Perhaps, from now on, Max would indeed be

of relief and acceptance. Even without parents, hadn't

path more independently and resolutely than anyone, and now she could comfortably savor the call of the birds, the evening stars, the morning breeze, and the glow of the moon. As for family ties, their absence

wrapped her arms around Max's neck, her eyes brimming with

stroked her hair, his eyes cold and

Beaconsfield was anything but

thought that Brielle was from an orphanage, but she also had such a

spread like wildfire,

it, Kingston's just a warehouse guard. That house he got was inherited from his father, all dirty and

dropped out of

never got a

couldn't bear to make him work. Their welfare checks barely

wnovel

grand, all handed

It's laughable. With a background like that, does the Dorsey family really not

law, and a lazy brother to boot. Geez,