Chapter 341

Aubree was nursing a headache. “Love,” she mused, “is undoubtedly the most confounding enigma in the world.”

“Let’s drop that topic, Bri. Come on, tell me, did you make a wish for me?”

The conversation took a lighter turn. Aubree’s eyes gleamed with expectation as she intently watched Brielle’s face.

Brielle was in high spirits, and her smile was shining brighter than usual “Of course I did. The very first wish was for you.”

Aubree cheered, “That seals it. Andrew can’t shake me off now.”

They would be tied together for life.

“By the way, this time Andrew got me this stunning necklace, said he designed it himself, with my name and all.”

Aubree cocked an eyebrow in pride, nudging Brielle’s shoulder. “I’ll bring it over for you to see sometime.”

Brielle didn’t want to dampen Aubree’s spirits, so she played along. “Sure thing.”

They sat in the living room, gossiping about the latest scandals in Beaconsfield before dozing off, leaning against each other.

Meanwhile, the online world continued its relentless churn. Alivia’s post was laden with insinuations, just short of a public declaration that she and Max were an item. Anyone would take it for a public display of affection.

But at that moment, Max was slumped on a couch in a hospital ward. His neck was treated with ointment for several scratch marks. He hadn’t slept for days, and now that the patient. was finally stable, he succumbed to sleep on the sofa.

The patient had always been dependent on Alivia, so Alivia was allowed to stay in the room.

On the other side was a large bed with a woman lying on it, weak and sedated, now fast asleep. Just two hours earlier, her hysteria had peaked, and her sharp nails had slashed across Max’s neck as he fed her soup.

Her tirade in the ward had been manic, until the doctor swiftly administered a sedative and discussed further treatment plans with Max before treating his neck wounds.

The woman’s nails had been unforgiving; the three bloody scratches were visible, extending from his shirt collar up to his jaw, even with the top button done up.

“Max, you’ve had your medicine. Try to get some rest,” the doctor had urged.

The sedative in Max’s medication, combined with his lack of sleep both at home and abroad, and now with the sleep–inducing drugs he had taken, allowed him to drift off on the couch.

Alivia watched him, her eyes filled with obsession and resentment. When the doctor treated. Max, Alivia had seen the bite mark. It was like a thorn piercing her heart, bleeding her dry.

Another woman had left it, and to be in such a place, It had to be someone close. Who could it be?

She trembled with rage, exerting great effort to keep from lashing out. She had so many questions, yet she bottled them up.

Seeing him asleep, she longed to draw near. Alivia knew he was sensitive and dared not get too close.

Even in this state, the moment she approached, Max would instantly wake up. So she stayed a meter away, finding an angle to take a photo that made their hands appear together.

In reality, there was about half a meter between their hands, but the angle made it seem ast though they were intimately placed side by side.

Pleased with the photo, Alivia promptly uploaded it to her social media account. After knowing him for so many years, she could only afford such minor gestures behind his back.

That woman back home brazenly left such marks on his neck for all to see. What a harlot. flaunting it in such a conspicuous place. Was the woman showing off?

Alivia was livid, her face ashen, yet she suppressed her emotions. She still had a chance.

Every time Martha had an episode, Max would rush back, and these were the rare moments they spent together. All her efforts over the years to cultivate a relationship with Martha were not in vain.

Martha was Max’s birth mother, and among the Dorsey siblings, only Victoria and Max shared the same mother. But Max and Victoria were distant. Max always preferred to read quietly for days on end, secluded in his room.

Max felt that uncomfortable gaze, and his brow furrowed, and he slowly opened his eyes.

Alivia hastily tucked her phone away at the sight. “Max, you’re awake. Do you want to sleep some more?”

Max had only slept for two hours and still looked weary. He glanced at his mum lying on the bed, slowly got up, and drew open the curtains.

The facility was a three–story sanatorium, dedicated entirely to Martha’s care. So, Max never worried about Martha’s basic needs. But Martha’s condition was deteriorating with each episode. What could be the cause?