Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 994

The moment seemed to stretch out endlessly before Michael burst into laughter, loud and wild, like he had just heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Brielle, who are you talking to?" he asked, a mocking edge in his voice.

Brielle instinctively stepped in front of Max, eyes sharp and wary. "What do you want, Michael?"

Michael was convinced now-she had lost her mind.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha," he bellowed, his laughter a bizarre symphony in the otherwise silent room.

"Look, I admit I've lost, but you haven't won either, Brielle. Take a good look around. Is Max really here? The fire at the manor... I heard you were the only survivor. Did Max die in the flames? If so, good riddance. It means I haven't truly lost. Isn't life just like that? All the scheming, and in the end, we're left empty-handed."

Brielle's body tensed, her face flushed with anger.

But she kept her cool. Clearly, Michael was trying to provoke her.

"Michael, the Dorsey family is done for. There's no need for these jabs. Max cut ties with your family long ago. So, I owe you nothing."

She looped her arm through Max's, eager to leave Michael and his insanity behind.

But Michael grabbed her sleeve, his laughter growing even more maniacal.

"I thought I was the tragic one, but you, Brielle, you're the real tragedy. No more Max, and the life you carried is gone too. Normal folks can't bear such blows. It's expected you'd go mad. Sanity would be the abnormal reaction. Pitiful, truly pitiful. We're all pitiable ! creatures."

Brielle's features turned icy as she prepared to retort, but Aubree held her back.

Let's not stoop to

he had was money from selling Dorsey International. But what use was it? He wanted the thriving company, not just

Is Max by your side? The fire reduced him to ashes. No wonder there's been no news of him. You've hidden it well. I thought he was just critically injured. Such a

then

he's here with me, right? Max is

nodded. "Yes, it's him. Who

had already scored a blockbuster hit and was on the

touching the air

"How could

Sight here. Michael,

De? See, he's clearly

you he's not? Aubree,

carefully-is he really

Aubree, close to tears, could no longer

we should

then reality hit her

cold,

The hand that

a

warm flesh toll

air. Content

if she'd been slapped awake from

glanced at her fingertips-pale,

reached

Just air.