Max peered through the hospital window, his heart heavy as he observed the hive of activity in the intensive care unit. Tubes and wires ensnared Martha while doctors monitored her vitals on the array of beeping machines beside her.

Suddenly, Michael turned, his gesture cold and disdainful, pointing an accusing finger at Brielle. "As long as I draw breath, I'll never let a woman like her cross the threshold of the Dorsey household! If you insist on this, Max, don't bother coming back to the family estate!" His words were a hair's breadth away from outright disowning his son.

"Father, Brielle has no ties to the Kingstons. Do what you will with the others, but there's no need to drag her into this," Max argued.

Michael let out a derisive chuckle. "Do you truly believe Brielle is more important than Martha that you'd disregard whether she lives or dies?"

"I never said that."

Seemingly exhausted by the confrontation, Michael waved his hand dismissively. "Let's just focus on Martha for now."

Max remained silent, standing his ground, his hand reaching back slightly, seeking Brielle's.

Her hand was as cold as ice, devoid of warmth. She couldn't even feel the heat of Max's palm, only the numbing cold.

With his back to her, Max faced down the rest of the Dorsey clan with a dignified defiance.

Brielle's lips parted, but she felt utterly powerless. Unless she renounced her very flesh and blood, in the eyes of others, James would always be her brother, the one who had harmed Martha.

Blinking back her emotions, she pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

to know Max had stirred discontent amongst the Dorseys by

Victoria's gaze upon her, a

turned to Brielle long enough to say, "Go home for

for him to stay. After

under the watchful eyes of the family. She turned and walked silently out of the hospital, her mind a blank

waiting outside, hastening to open the car door for her. "Ms. Brielle, you should head

knowing there was

completely drained, she was about to get into

save your brother. If it weren't for you, he

mother and I won't want to live either. You have to

had apparently been waiting for her, desperate for help, but Brielle silently

"Brielle!"

"Brielle!"

father's voice grew fainter

at

mirror, noting her

car roof, lost in thought.

words seemed pointless with Martha's

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