Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

"What's on your mind?" Max tilted her face towards him, scanning the confusion etched across her features, his brow furrowed in concern. "Something bothering you?" She was sitting right next to him, close enough for him to quickly pick up on her mood shifts.

Brielle shook her head as a grape popped into her mouth. It was sweet, a burst of sweetness that reached deep into her soul.

"Is it about that TV show crew?" Max's tone was casual as he continued, "I'll have Patrick prepare, and we'll acquire the sponsor of this production team."

Brielle found it amusing, but as she laughed, she pursed her lips and felt a hint of bitterness. "Now there's going to be even more talk about me not being good enough for you." She had let her innermost thoughts slip out without intending to.

Max fell silent. He was looking down, his high nose bridge prominent, his forehead slightly covered by his naturally falling hair, partially concealing his eyes.

Brielle wanted to say something to ease the tension, but her throat tightened. What could she say?

After all, wasn't there some truth to her words?

"Brielle." Max called her name.

"Yeah?"

"Hungry?" "No."

"Good."

She wanted to ask what he meant by that, but in the next moment, she was swept up in his arms, her hands instinctively wrapping around his neck.

When she realized what he intended, her cheeks flushed, "Aren't we about to have dinner?"

Max didn't respond, carrying her into the master bedroom and gently laying her on the bed.

The lights went off, he leaned in, and everything happened so fluidly.

Brielle's fingers were clasped tightly in his, and she heard him say huskily, "Others may say that, but you can't."

He had never thought that way. Brielle was just Brielle, her background irrelevant.

That she had made it into his eyes and heart proved that she was exceptional, truly one of a kind.

His kisses moved from her cheek to her lips, light as a feather, treasured beyond measure.

"As long as you want, from now on, I'm your family."

Warmth surged through Brielle's heart. Perhaps, from now on, Max would indeed be her home.

She felt an unprecedented sense of relief and acceptance. Even without parents, hadn't she made it through these years on her own?

She had walked her path more independently and resolutely than anyone, and now she could comfortably savor the call of the birds, the evening stars, the morning breeze, and the glow of the moon. As for family ties, their absence was a regret but merely that, a regret.

She wrapped her arms around Max's neck, her eyes brimming with tears as she whispered, "Yeah."

Max stroked her hair, his eyes cold and resolute.

Meanwhile, the town of Beaconsfield was anything but peaceful. The industry was abuzz.

Who would have thought that Brielle was from an orphanage, but she also had such a father?

The gossip spread like wildfire, with a touch of condescension.

"Found out about it, Kingston's just a warehouse guard. That house he got was inherited from his father, all dirty and messy."

"Their son dropped out of middle

school and never got a real job, but

his parents, spoiled him and couldn't bear to make him work. Their welfare checks barely add up

wnovel

three grand, all handed to the son."

"And her mom, what about her? Only got an elementary school education. It's laughable. With a background like that, does the Dorsey family really not mind?"

"Having a warehouse guard for a dad, a maid for a mom who's had run-ins with the law, and a lazy brother to boot. Geez, can someone's birth circumstances really be this poor?" "Such is the life of the common folk."

The chatter was rampant in social circles, especially after the afternoon's live broadcast which had caused quite a stir. Now, it seemed everyone in the circle knew about it.

Regarding Max's affairs, whispers

had circulated, especially since Alivia

had been quiet on social media lately, no more subtle displays of affection. The rumors seemed true: Max had taken a shine to Briette and had even defied Michael for her.

Now, could Max still be indifferent to the rumors?

In the sanatorium, Martha was practically beside herself with rage, smashing her teacup to the ground. "Damn it! I never imagined such a lowly upbringing! What right does she have to be with Max? Bitch!" The floor was littered with broken porcelain, a testament to Martha's fury.

The staff at the door trembled, too scared to come in and clean up. Alivia was like a savior to them. Alivia raised her hand, signaling everyone to leave, before she walked in. "Martha."

Martha's mood improved considerably upon seeing her. "Alivia, did you see the live broadcast?"

"I did, Martha. But please, don't get too upset. It's not good for your health."All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

How could Martha not be upset? She felt her temples throbbing with anger.

Martha had thought Brielle was just an unwanted piece of trash, only to discover that the trash had come from a literal dump. And the Dorsey family's most eligible heir had stooped to picking up trash from such a place.

It was simply preposterous.