Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

The door closed slowly, and Brielle remained rooted to the spot, unable to move an inch. She had known Aubree for years but never realized the depth of the relationship between

her and

Andrew. A tumult of emotions churned within her, like waves crashing and winds howling. Didn’t Andrew have a fiancée?

Brielle’s head lowered, her long lashes casting deep shadows across her face, as she stood motionless.

The hallway was quiet and elegant, but the noises coming from the man had been anything but. Perhaps mindful that Max was still waiting in the private dining room, Andrew had finished quickly. His lips, his shirt collar, were smudged with telltale marks of lipstick.

Leaning against the mirror, legs weak, Aubree raised an evebrow with a smile, “Tessa didn’t take good care of you?”

Andrew, with a touch of cruelty, patted her cheek and said coldly, “This kind of affair isn’t something she’s cut out for.”

Aubree didn’t reply, her face ghostly pale.

Andrew left her with a simple command, “Clean yourself up and come out,” before he was

gone.

Once the washroom was silent again, Aubree straightened her attire before exiting, only to spot a shadow around the hallway corner.

“Bri…”

Aubree hadn’t expected Brielle to be there, and in a flash of panic, she wasn’t sure how much Brielle had seen. She knew her actions were no better than those of Lillian, and almost instinctively she tried to justify, “You have to understand, Andrew and Tessa-it’s just a business arrangement. There’s no love. Besides, Tessa has always been frail and has never cared for romance.”

Aubree had a host of excuses to rationalize this twisted relationship. Brielle’s eyes were calm as she eventually asked, “Do you think there’s love between me and Spencer?”

Aubree shivered and found herself at a loss for words.

The shock to Brielle was palpable. The very person who had just been condemning Lillian had suddenly become the next Lillian.

“Bri, you wouldn’t understand love. I’ve adored him for over a decade, since we were kids.

16.05

The recent runaway episode? It was all because of his engagement to the Rowland family.”

Andrew only saw her as a tool, but Aubree was powerless to stop her feelings. If there were a switch to turn off love and retract all emotions, she would give anything to flip it.

“Bri.”

Usually cheerful and bold, Aubree had never felt so scared.

Brielle was about to leave when the dining room door creaked open. Andrew appeared, a smirk of smug satisfaction spread across his face, yet it lacked any trace of genuine emotion. “Little Canary, best forget what you just saw.”

He had noticed Brielle all along but didn’t care.

Unable to bear it anymore, Aubree stepped forward, her hand raised for a slap, but her wrist was caught mid-air by Andrew, who wore a mocking smile, his lips stained with red, “Go back first.”

Brielle watched this unfold, frowning, and through the slightly ajar door of the booth, she locked eyes with Max.

Max remained indifferent, toying with a glass of wine, and casually patted the seat beside him.

Brielle, still wrapped in his jacket, just wanted to return it and leave. She didn’t look at Aubree or Andrew, feeling the entire situation was beyond comprehension.

Approaching Max, his scent enveloped her-a warm woody note with a hint of crisp rose-in the dim space. It lingered on her skin, impossible to shake off.

“Uncle Max, your jacket.” She slid off the suit jacket and placed it neatly on his lap.

But Max just held her wrist, ‘Feeling down?”

Of course, Brielle felt awful, like she had swallowed a fly. The nauseating sensation hovered in her chest, impossible to expel.

With the booth room door closed, isolating the pair inside, Andrew held Aubree’s arm, “Acquaintance?” Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

Aubree’s heart trembled. Even if they were strangers, he should have stopped immediately when he noticed someone nearby.

Andrew raised an eyebrow with a smirk, “You seemed more eager than me just now, Aubree. After all these years, why do you bother to act so innocent?” In some ways, Andrew and Aubree were alike- blunt, sparing no one’s feelings.

Aubree raised her hand again, this time with more finesse, and the slap landed crisply.

“Snap!”

16.06

Andrew’s head jerked to the side, his tongue touching his cheek. He scoffed and swallowed back the faste of blood, “Come to my villa tonight. I’ll fuck you good. If you

don’t show up, don’t come looking for me again