Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 867

Chapter 867

The car door clicked shut softly, and the vehicle eased into the night. He watched her silhouette in the rearview mirror, shrinking until it disappeared into the darkness.

Inside the car, a warm light flickered on, casting a cozy glow over the leather seats. He reached into his black coat and pulled out a broken fortune stick, now clumsily mended with glue. The crack was still there, mocking his helplessness. He turned the stick over to see four words engraved in the wood: "Perfect Match Made in Heaven." Even the soothsayers at Radiant Light Church could spin a tale, it seemed.

Brielle braved the drizzle, heading back to her hotel. From a distance, she saw Max under a black umbrella, deep in conversation on his phone. As she neared, he instinctively tilted the umbrella to cover her.

His face was grim, and it was clear that the conversation was serious-likely about the Dorsey family. The hotel manager, a blonde foreigner, stood nearby, waiting for Max's instructions.

Brielle stayed silent, sensing the tension. Max seemed colder than usual, perhaps due to the wet, chilly air. His fingers, pale against the silver umbrella handle, showed no warmth.

After he ended the call, he gave her a quick glance but didn't ask where she'd been. Someone else approached, reporting that they'd lost someone.

hotel manager. From their conversation, Brielle gathered that this hotel belonged to Max. Soaked from the

puffs. He went to the bathroom and

bath," he said, implying that everything here was clean

into the tub, her mind a whirl of thoughts. His lack of questions made

to find him ready with a hairdryer. She sat

minutes, her hair was completely dry. Through the mirror, Brielle saw him lift a strand of her hair to his nose, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, free of any trace of blood. While

She tried to speak, to explain, but he didn't give her the

the verge

another call. It was Andrew, telling him that Kenzo had announced his

I can't find him. Can

lowered as he toyed with a lighter, sparking a

don't get what he's thinking. He's not just leaving the limelight; he's stepping out of the whole Beaconsfield

move had

close-knit