Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 19

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.

before exiting, only to spot a shadow around the hallway

“Bri…”

much Brielle had seen. She knew her actions were no better than those of Lillian, and almost instinctively she tried to justify,

relationship. Brielle’s eyes were calm as she eventually asked, “Do you think there’s love

herself at

shock to Brielle was palpable. The very person who had just been condemning Lillian had

understand love. I’ve adored him for over a decade, since

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Chapter

recent runaway episode? It was all because of

to stop her feelings. If there were a switch to

“Bri.”

and bold, Aubree had never felt

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

had noticed Brielle all along but

raised for a slap, but her wrist was caught mid-air by Andrew, who wore a

and through the slightly ajar door of the booth, she locked

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

just wanted to return it and leave. She didn’t look at Aubree or Andrew, feeling the

note with a hint of crisp rose-in the dim space. It lingered on her skin, impossible to shake

your jacket.” She slid off the suit jacket and