Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Max’s fingers lingered in her hair before he couldn’t help but cough twice.

Outside, Patrick heard the noise and gently knocked on the door. “Mr. Dorsey, are you awake?”

Patrick had kept watch all night. Now, hearing Max’s voice and still concerned about the injuries on his body, he asked with a hint of worry.

Max wrapped himself in a robe, casually tying a knot around his waist before opening the door.

Patrick, carrying a first aid kit, didn’t glance at Brielle, who was still on the bed, but walked over to the window and placed the kit beside the desk.

After Max sat down, Patrick hurriedly checked the wound on his chest, noticing it had slightly reopened. He quickly took out the antiseptic, disinfected the wound, and rewrapped it with fresh bandages.

Max remained silent, a gentle smile playing at the edges of his lips. Patrick knew Max was pleased, and his own furrowed brow relaxed.

While tending to Max’s wounds, Patrick couldn’t help but notice the nail marks on his chest, a testament to a passionate night. He felt genuinely happy for the couple, aware only he knew what Max had been through these past few days.

“I’ve prepared Ms. Brielle’s clothes; they’re in the dresser, and also,” he said, suddenly feeling embarrassed, “the medicines Ms. Brielle might need.”

Max was no fool, especially after the previous night’s indulgence, which he remembered all too well. The reminder made his ears flush with warmth. “Got it.”

After Patrick offered his reminder, he withdrew, closing the door behind him.

Max felt invigorated and filled the bathtub with water, carefully carrying Brielle for a thorough wash. Brielle was so tired her eyelids trembled, but she couldn’t fully wake up.

Max found the ointment Patrick had prepared and applied it to her. Brielle, mistaking his intentions, pleaded in a pitiful tone, “Can I rest a bit?”

Max chuckled at her words, playfully stroking her nose with his fingertip. She frowned but said

no more.

After being carried back to bed, she didn’t make another move, falling into a deep sleep. Without further ado, Max lay back down, carefully pulling her close, and drifted off to sleep. This time, it wasn’t just a pillow he held; her presence softened his heart. Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Brielle slept for hours before she finally opened her eyes. By the time she woke up, the sun was high in the sky.

Seeing his face so close, she thought she was dreaming. It took her a moment to remember seeking out Max the previous night, their wild encounter, and then sleeping till now.

Her waist was trapped in his strong embrace, immobilizing her.

With a slight movement, Max awoke. “Not going to sleep a bit more?”

Considering her recent experiences, including last night’s events, Brielle couldn’t fall back asleep. Her lips pressed tight. Now wasn’t the time for rest.

She noticed the bandages on Max’s chest, and with a nervous jump, she got out of bed only to collapse weakly to her knees. Max’s hand caught her waist, pulling her back into his embrace. “Careful.”

Brielle settled back on the bed, staring fixedly at the scars on his chest, unable to resist. reaching out to touch them. He intercepted her hand. “I’ve already changed the dressing. Get dressed first.”

Brielle’s legs were weak. She truly didn’t have the strength to stand and go to the dresser for her clothes.

Max chuckled softly, getting up to fetch her clothes.

Despite their numerous intimate moments, the sight of his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and his handsome features, still made Brielle blush. But she quickly regained her composure, feeling that last night’s actions had been somewhat impulsive.

Would exposing their relationship to the public eye affect him?

She had been selfish in wanting to keep their affair secret, and now she was the first to reveal it selfishly.

Max stood so high in the social circles of Beaconsfield. What would they think of him being entangled with his nephew’s former fiancée?