Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

The atmosphere in the car was as tense as a boardroom meeting gone wrong, and Andrew was itching for the sedan to make a beeline to the hospital already.

But as the vehicle sprang to life, Max spoke up. “Patrick, take us to the Premier Palace,” he commanded.

Patrick, not one to cross Max, simply nodded.

Andrew, incredulously whipping his head around, blurted out, “Are you out of your mind? You’re coughing up blood and want to go to the Premier Palace?!”

“Cough, cough, cough.”

No sooner had Andrew finished his rant than Max started coughing again, hison

turning a shade paler.

Andrew clamped his mouth shut, grinding his teeth in frustration, and finally let out a resigned sigh. Fine, the Premier Palace had its own private doctors, which was a heck of a lot better. than staying cooped up in the office working overtime.

They reached the Premier Palace in no time, where a private physician was already waiting.

Max stepped out of the car and was promptly whisked away for a thorough check–up. The rest of the group in the living room wore grave expressions, dreading the doctor’s verdict.

The doctor was on edge, too, understanding that coughing up blood wasn’t a trivial matter; any serious diagnosis could throw the Dorsey family into disarray.

After the examination, the doctor breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s just acute stress,” he said. “Rest up, and take a couple of days off from the office. Stay home and recuperate.”

Max, with his eyes closed, didn’t respond. Andrew and Kenzo exchanged glances, noticing Max’s unusual vulnerability. Neither wanted to say anything that might agitate him further, especially after the doctor’s diagnosis.

Wesley, the butler, came in with a cup of calming tea and handed it carefully to Max. After a couple of sips, Max frowned. “I’m tired.” NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

That was the signal for everyone to leave.

Kenzo’s eyebrows knitted together, noting the lack of color in Max’s lips. “Are you sure your don’t need the hospital? Who gets discharged in three days with injuries like yours? What’s the rush?”

Andrew chimed in with his agreement. “Yeah, let’s head to the hospital now, Max. You look as pale as a ghost.”

Max lifted his gaze, sweeping it over them, and then stood up, heading upstairs. “I’ll have Patrick see you off.”

11:56

Andrew’s mouth twitched with annoyance, but with Max’s dismissal clear, Andrew couldn’t glue himself to the spot and stay.

“Look at him! Feels even colder than before, doesn’t he? Is all this because he forgot Brielle?”

At the mention of Brielle, Kenzo’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Forgot Brielle?” he queried.

Andrew, ever the chatterbox, scoffed, “Your sister said so. Max woke up with amnesia, leaving Brielle in the dark. I reckon it’s true; he’s less human than ever.”

Both men turned their questioning gaze to Patrick, who was trailing behind.

Patrick bowed respectfully, his answer watertight as ever. “I am not at liberty to discuss Mr. Dorsey’s matters.”

Andrew snorted. After all these years, Max’s assistant was still a closed book. No wonder Max trusted him.

Knowing he’d get nothing out of Patrick, Andrew hopped into his convertible, ready to speed away. “Regardless of whether he forgot Brielle or not, it makes no difference to us. Patrick, just make sure he takes care of himself. If anything goes awry, Beaconsfield will have quite the stir.” Andrew said before leaving.

Patrick’s face remained respectful. “Mr. Clements, rest assured, I will take good care of the CEO.”

With a nod, Andrew drove off in his convertible.

Kenzo stood for a moment, eyeing Patrick. Hewas the very image of composure, neither too humble nor arrogant–truly Max’s man.

Kenzo chuckled to himself and got into his car, driving away.

Patrick sought out Max, who had just finished showering, droplets of water trickling down from his hair. “Have they left?”

“Yes.”

Max walked to the window. “How much longer before everything is settled?”

“Two days at best. The paperwork is complex, but the lawyers are pushing things along.”

Hmm.‘

Max’s tone was indifferent, but he couldn’t help another bout of coughing.

“Sir, you should really rest these next few days,” Patrick urged. “We have a lot riding on your well– being, and there’s the impending alliance with the Rowland family. A dinner between the families is in order.”

Max nodded, then pressed a hand to his temple before lying down on the bed.

Patrick turned off the light and quietly left the room.

11:56

Malay Pex had suctively reaching out beside him, only to embrace empty air. Hist

hast decat party, the taste of blood almost too much to bear.

TAUSA, CONSĂ, CON

A few coughs escaped him as he chiklishly stuffed a pillow into his arms, holding it tight as he drifted off to slee