Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)

He held up a finger in front of his lips, signaling for her to keep quiet.

Brielle didn't say a word, but her hand slipped into her sleeve, where she had hidden a folding pocketknife she found last night while rummaging through the villa. Back home, Max had given her a gun, but that wouldn't make it through airport security, so she had to settle for the pocketknife for protection. The mute guy was just too weird; she couldn't figure out if he was friend or foe.

When the footsteps faded, he released her and pointed down another path, gesturing for her to follow. Brielle didn't speak, but her heart raced, feeling like death was just around the corner tonight.

As she moved forward, her foot accidentally snapped something with a soft "crack." In the dim light, she saw it was a stick, now broken in two. The man ahead seemed to realize he had dropped something and slowly walked back to her, kneeling to pick up the pieces of the stick.

Brielle watched his pale hand, taking a step back, as he carefully tucked the stick back inside his coat, as though it were something precious. The man walked about ten meters ahead, then paused when he heard her soft footsteps, a slight smile curving his lips. Brielle slipped the folding pocketknife back into her sleeve and followed him. Ten minutes later, she finally emerged from the alleyway. Keiran's car was parked not too far away.

She stepped forward, intending to head for the car, but then glanced back at the mute one last time. He stood quietly in the darkness, blending with the shadows, like someone who was never meant for the light.

Brielle opened her mouth and finally said one word. "Thanks."

He didn't respond, and after she spoke, she walked away with determined strides. As she approached the car, Brielle's expression turned cold, with a hint of confusion. She opened the car door and saw Keiran sitting inside.

Worried that his face-blindness

might be acting up again, she was about to introduce herself when she noticed a small pendant hanging in Keiran's car, with her photo on it. The thought of being displayed like that didn't exactly thrill her, but she took some comfort in the fact that Keiran seemed to be trying to remember her face.

"Let's crash at my buddy's place tonight," he said, upbeat and humming a tune.

Brielle, however, kept looking back at where the mute had stood, her mind now filled with numerous thoughts. She used the car charger to power up her phone. As soon as it was on, Max's call came through, asking where she was.

In that moment, Brielle felt a huge sense of relief. Max must have sensed something was off with her because he recited his address. It was a high-end hotel, and she relayed the address to Keiran.

Keiran cocked his head, puzzled. "Not going to my friend's place?"

"No, Max is here."

Without further questions, Keiran turned the car around. Half an hour later, they pulled up at the hotel where Max was staying. Brielle was somewhat surprised that Max would come overseas at such a critical time, considering the Dorsey family had their share of issues, But she truly felt relieved.

She got out of the car and couldn't help but ask Keiran to stay as well. "Why don't you book a room here too?" Keiran drove a luxury car, not his own, but a friend's. "No, my friend is waiting for me."

So Brielle didn't press further. Upon entering the lobby, she immediately spotted Max sitting on a couch, his fingers tapping away at his laptop probably remote conferencing with the bigwigs at Beaconsfield. Seeing her he closed his laptop and pulled her into his arms.

"Sorry, my phone died," Brielle explained. Max didn't say anything, just held her quietly for a moment.