Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Bette chuckled lightly when she heard the wonds. “Really now? What’s your grand plan to deal with me? Drag me out to some godforsaken place and have your way with me before finishing me off?”

Such low grade tactics hardly impressed her.

“Even if you kill me or violate me, my heart still belongs to Max. I love him so much, I’d give up my life” Her voice was nonchalant as she watched the landscape whizzing by the window, a small smile curving her lips, “I just realized how deeply I feel for him.”

Spencer gripped the steering wheel tight, his palms slick with sweat. “Is that so? Your love is quite noble”

Madness filled his eyes, tears streamed down his face, but he seemed eerily calm now. A calm that was terrifying.

Brielle couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. If this guy wasn’t part of the Dorsey clan, the folks in Beaconsfield would have set him straight long ago. At the end of the day, Spencer had it too easy his whole life, which is why he turned out this way. After ruining the best thing he ever had, he started crying and making a fuss, thinking it would bring everything back, like an immature child.

The car pulled up to an abandoned factory on the outskirts of town, and Brielle felt bone–weary. She just slumped in her seat. “Get on with whatever you’re going to do. Tonight’s New Year’s Eve. I’d like to get back in time to watch the fireworks with him.”

Spencer’s hands trembled as he opened the door, so weak that he struggled to muster the strength to move. He’d never imagined that Brielle could be so heartless when she didn’t love someone. His lips

trembled, and suddenly, he didn’t have the strength to get out of the car. All his plans, his madness, disappeared in an instant because of her words.

He began to sob into the steering wheel, starting quietly and escalating into loud wails, his shoulders shaking. Brielle lifted her eyelids, gave him a detached glance, and closed her eyes again. The car windows were down, and the outside wind kept blowing in, but nothing mattered against the backdrop of his grief.

A man crying like this was beyond her comprehension, but knowing it was Spencer, she sort of understood.

Brielle sighed softly.

At the sound of her sigh, Spencer felt a surge of pain. He suddenly looked up and, in a fit of despair, ripped open her blouse.

Brielle didn’t bother to struggle. The whole situation annoyed her, and she just wanted to cut him loose from her life. Their entanglement should have ended a decade ago.

However, Spencer only managed to tear a few buttons before resting his head on her

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shoulder, sobbing as if his heart would break. His tears soaked her shoulder, and her

irritation grew. She pushed him away, not caring if he continued to cry, and kicked him out of the car with one swift movement.

Spencer tumbled out and rolled into a heap of weeds.

Brielle, regaining some strength, saw him lying in the dirt and mud and felt a wave of discomfort. Her memories of the past were fading, but she remembered a Spencer who was fearless and proud, not the man weeping before her now.

She shrugged off her tear–stained jacket and threw it out the window.

The scene had become almost comical. He had brought her here, presumably with other intentions, but now he could do nothing but cry. She sat in the car; he lay beneath it, unable to even lift his head.

What could be more painful for Spencer? The hurt Brielle inflicted on him was worse than death. The words she spoke in the car shattered all his sanity. He felt as though he had died and come back to life countless times.

Brielle should have wanted revenge for his na

collusion with Alivia, which led her to believe she was pregnant, and for his relentless pursuit of her, but now, she couldn’t muster the desire for vengeance. Perhaps letting him live like this was a hundred times worse than death.

She had never been a merciful person. The thought of what might have happened if she’d truly been pregnant made it impossible for her to feel pity for Spencer. So she closed the car door and said one last thing.

“Would you fall for a man who cries so hideously? If you weren’t born into the Dorsey family, you’d still be left in my dust, even when I came from an orphanage. Count yourself lucky to be a Dorsey. But it seems, even with that, you haven’t managed to live like a man should.”