Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Patrick's heart felt like it was being wrung out. He didn't say a word, just followed behind in a heavy silence.

Max hadn't gone far when he spotted a man on the ground, gunshot wound fresh and throat slashed, having fallen from a great height. Yet, miraculously, the man was still alive.

Patrick called for reinforcements, and soon, help arrived to handle the situation. Max didn't stop; his mind was set on finding Brielle.

He trudged along the muddy path for nearly a mile before he finally spotted her silhouette. If his need to find Brielle had been strong before, now he wished with every fiber of his being that it wasn't her lying there.

She lay still, her head resting in a dark pool of blood. Max felt like the world had gone silent. He moved instinctively closer, bending down to touch her hand, terrified it would be as cold as death.

His fingertips pulled back, eyes wide with shock, sorrow, and panic. Patrick quickly stepped in, placing a finger under Brielle's nose to check for breath. Max, unable to speak, watched him desperately.

His body, which had been fueled by adrenaline, now felt icy cold. He had imagined countless ways to reunite with Brielle, but never like this. He tried to speak but found himself mute. Slowly, cautiously, he reached out and touched Brielle's palm. It was cold, devoid of warmth.

in his, exhaling a warm breath, trying to will his heat into her. What if Brielle was gone? What

still breathing, sir," Patrick confirmed, his own heart heavy at the

he tried to lift Brielle, but his arms felt like overcooked spaghetti. As Brielle slipped from his grasp, he gathered her

sight, Patrick crouched down. "Let me carry Ms. Brielle. They're ready for us back there. She's

position Brielle onto Patrick's back. His legs gave way, leaving him barely able to stand as

nodded and hurried

tree for support, feeling

vel

forward, tripped, and the flashlight he carried broke, plunging his surroundings into darkness. With an exceptional memory, he recalled the exact number of steps he had taken. Discarding the broken flashlight, he relied on the feeble moonlight

on his face and looked up, expecting rain, but the sky was clear. How strange.

had already left, leaving behind people waiting for Max. When Max finally arrived, everyone was taken aback by his disheveled appearance-his once pristine clothes now soiled, his expensive

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