Chapter 647
Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)
Brielle wasnât at all surprised when her phone lit up with Aubreeâs name. The last thing she wanted was for Aubree to bring up Andrew and Tessaâs wedding.
âBri, are you hurt?â
Brielle was taken aback. She hadnât told anyone about her injury, and it wasnât circulating online. How did Aubree find out?
âYeah.â
âDid Andrew do it?â
Brielle really wanted to downplay it, to say it was just a minor concussion, something a couple of daysâ
rest could fix. But suddenly, she felt a pang of cunning. She didnât want to explain. Maybe this would push Aubree to distance herself from Andrew. Between her safety and her love for Andrew, Aubree would surely choose the former..
âYeah, Aubree, you coming back?â
The turmoil in Aubreeâs eyes roiled like a stormy sea upon hearing Brielleâs confirmation. She wished she could teleport back to Beaconsfield.
Those assholes!
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Aubree replied, âYeah, Iâll be back by morning to see you.â
âIâll be at the Premier Palace tomorrow. You focus on your shoot. Donât worry about me.â
After a few more exchanges, Brielle hung up, still concerned about Aubreeâs mental state. With the news of Andrewâs marriage spreading online, Aubree likely knew about it, but she showed no reaction.
Brielle breathed a sigh of relief. She put down the phone just as the bathroom door in the private hospital room swung open, and Max emerged. The room was a luxury suite, complete with a small kitchenette but only one bed.
Brielle noticed Maxâs phone had been ringing off the hook, but he hadnât picked up once. His hair was damp as he sat on the edge of the bed.
It was late, eleven at night, time to sleep, but thoughts of Aubreeâs return kept Brielle awake. Plus, Michael had been pressuring Max to return to the family estate, adding to her restlessness.
She snuggled into bed beside him, finding solace in his arms, and couldnât help asking, âIs Michael trying to replace you because of the fight?â As the heir to the Dorsey family, his public outburst was a disgrace. Worrying about both Aubree and Max made Brielle feel like her heart was being fried.
Max, In his pajamas, patted her back soothingly. âI hold fiftyâone percent of Dorsey Internationalâs shares. No one can replace me.â
But Brielleâs unease persisted, sensing Michael had something up his sleeve.
âDonât worry. Sleep,â Max murmured, kissing her forehead.
Brielleâs anxiety was amplified, and she suddenly propped herself up on his lap. âMax, youâre not going to break up with me, are you?â
Maxâs voice turned hoarse. Theyâd been too busy for sex lately, and her move had ignited a fire within him. He closed his eyes, his Adamâs apple bobbing. âNo, Iâll go to the estate tomorrow and have a talk with my father.â
Relieved, Brielle lay back down on his chest. âI canât think of what Michael would do to you, so Iâm worried.â
Darkness flickered in Maxâs eyes, his fingertips tracing her waist. âDonât worry.â
Finally feeling sleepy, Brielle slid down beside him, her worries easing. She thought theyâd return to Premier Palace together the next day, but when she awoke, Max was gone.
Patrick was waiting to take her back.
When she arrived in Premier Palace, she tried to call Max, but he didnât answer.
Sensing her concern, Patrick offered her a book. âMs. Brielle, the CEO will be back soon.â
Brielleâs mind wasnât on reading. Then her phone rang. Aubree had arrived in Beaconsfield. Their crew had taken up residence in the same runâdown neighborhood John used to live in. They had rented several clean, spacious rooms.
She texted Max about visiting Aubree, but he didnât look at his vibrating phone.
In front of Max was his father, practicing his calligraphy in silence, a priceless painting hanging behind.
The study, crafted from solid wood and furnished with Michaelâs favorite pearwood chairs, was filled with the faint scent of coffee.
Neither spoke, a silent contest of patience.
Seasoned in lifeâs battles, Michael continued to write with a steady, forceful hand, as ruthless as his business tactics. Brielle had been right. Under Michael, the Dorsey family had seen many disappearances. He was the most ruthless of them all.
Max might have been sharp in business, but he had never turned his hands against his own family. In certain situations, Michael might have lost his conscience, and Max simply disdained petty fights.