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.

stoop to his level.

all he had was money from selling Dorsey International. But what

your side? The fire reduced

paled, then turned to

here with me, right? Max is

nodded. "Yes, it's

the rising star of their generation, had already scored a blockbuster hit and was on the track to awards, but in front of Brielle,

touching the

"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 bear it

maybe we should

then reality hit

cold,

The hand that

a

warm flesh toll

but air.

she'd been

at her

she reached out again-still

Just air.