Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle glanced at the date on her phone screen and realized she’d lost herself in another night.

Outside, the rain was coming down in buckets, and the warmth wrapped around her waist tightened like vines. She reached for her phone and saw it was Spencer calling, so she hit the answer button.

“Hello?”

The man beside her seemed to stir awake. Brielle quickly lowered her voice, “Spencer,

what’s up?”

Her throat was so hoarse she could barely speak, so she got out of bed to pour herself at glass of water to soothe it.

“Where have you been these past couple of days? Lillian and I have been texting you like crazy, and you haven’t responded.”

Brielle tied her robe and met the man’s gaze as she lifted her head. He had a strong presence, with a high nose and deep-set eyes, which gave him an air of aloof coolness.

A sense of relief washed over her: Sure, she was spent, but at least she’d managed to cheat on Spencer as well.

What goes around comes around.

“Well, I didn’t see them. Is there something wrong?” Brielle nonchalantly picked up the suit jacket from the floor.

“Uncle Max is back in town. I’m picking you up in ten minutes for a family dinner.”

Before Brielle could reply, Spencer hung up. Brielle raised an eyebrow and then turned to

Max.

“Uncle Max, you are going back home?” Her tone was teasing and alluring.

Just then, a knock came at the door.

Was Spencer here already?

She glanced at Max, searching for even a hint of guilt on his face. Nothing. He looked as

casual as if he were in his own home.

Brielle pointed to the bathroom and chuckled. My fiancé’s here. Mind hiding out for a bit?” Her tone was casual, but the message was clear.

The voice outside was unfamiliar. “Ms. Brielle, I’m here to deliver Mr. Dorsey’s clothes.”

Brielle opened the door to find an assistant-like figure holding a suit, greeting respectfully

to her

He didn’t ask much about her relationship with Max, typical of Max’s people.

She took the suit and handed it to Max

“Quite sensible” The tone that emerged from his throat was like a brook with a hint of snow, chilly and indifferent. Despite the lingering lust in his eyes, once the suit was on, Max reverted to his usual cold and abstinent demeanor.

Brielle remembered how fiercely he’d been in bed, and she mused that his moniker, The Priest’ was quite the misnomer. Even so, as she caught sight of the bruised nail marks on his back, her cheeks flushed without reason. NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

After bringing him to this apartment while he was drunk, she never imagined they’d end tangled together more than once.

She thought to ease into a conversation, but her phone rang again. It was Spencer, sounding impatient. “Are you coming down?”

She thought about the fact that the guest of honor at the family dinner was still here, so why rush?

But Spencer had little patience for her, “The rain’s heavy, and there’s traffic ahead. Don’t make me wait, and remember your place.”

His disdain was undisguised.

Brielle didn’t feel like arguing, so after hanging up, she kissed Max in a sort of vengeful defiance. His fingers responded by gripping the back of her neck. Spencer’s car was waiting downstairs, and she reveled in the secret thrill of the moment.

“Brielle, be careful not to get burned when playing with fire,” Max warned.