Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)

The penthouse suite was quiet, save for the low murmur of Max's voice as he spoke on the phone by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Fresh out of the shower, Brielle lay on the bed, watching him as he hung up and opened his laptop to continue a meeting with senior He was always so busy.

executives.

Though she didn't sleep, Brielle's gaze never left Max. The room's dim lighting made the city lights behind him seem especially enchanting, casting a golden glow around his silhouette. The laptop's glow illuminated his features, highlighting the sharpness and aloofness of his expressions.

"This proposal needs to be redone. We'll discuss the rest later," Max said abruptly, shutting his laptop before anyone could respond. His phone rang again before he could stand - it was Patrick calling.

"Mr. President, it seems Michael has caught wind of your trip abroad. He asked me to tell you he wants to meet tomorrow."

Knowing Max was overseas, Michael must be seizing the opportunity.

"What's Antonio up to?" Max inquired.

"He's taking care of the old man. Probably aiming for the shares he's holding. Once he gets them, along with what William has, he'll become the second-largest shareholder of Dorsey International, right after you." Max felt no ripple of concern.

Patrick had been by his side for years, yet he couldn't fathom what went on in Max's mind. To Max, running Dorsey International seemed like a mere convenience.

But what did Max truly want to do?

"I understand. No need to hover over the hospital, and avoid conflicts with the execs," Max directed before ending the call and locking eyes with Brielle.

Brielle's hair, freshly washed and dried, fell in natural, slightly tousled waves.

Max powered off his phone and approached the bed, effortlessly pulling her into his arms.

"Are you sure it's okay to not be at the helm of Dorsey International right now?" she asked. With Michael's health in question, possibly due to foul play, Max's absence could give adversaries an advantage.

Max's response was to seal her lips with his, his hands wandering downward as if nothing else mattered.

But Brielle had questions, so when he seemed eager to continue, she gently pushed back.

"What exactly is Annie's connection to all this? And that man by your side, I still don't know his name. I felt like he was out to get me tonight."

Max, though frustrated, took her cool hand into his and toyed with it.

"She's my professor's goddaughter. The professor has strong ties to the Lynch family. They have a very influential butler who's been with them since Owen's time. He's in his seventies now, and the professor is his son. As for their grievances, you know, Infinity Brilliance is a top-tier North American dynasty, and they don't tell outsiders their people's stories. Plus, those who work for the Lynch family are tight-lipped. That's all I know for now."

The connection between the professor and the Lynch family was starting to make sense.

Brielle pursed her lips in thought. No. wonder Annie seemed so close to Raymond-being the professor's goddaughter, she must be a regular presence around the Lynch family.

As a reward for his information, Brielle planted a soft kiss on Max's lips.

He could tell she wasn't in the mood tonight.

"How influential is the butler in the Lynch family?" she asked, piecing together the puzzle where both the butler and the professor seemed suspicious. "Owen grew up under his care."

In a sense, the butler was almost like a father to him.

Brielle fell silent, contemplating her

own difficult recognition by the

Lynch family. If it was indeed the butler causing trouble, even if she boldly returned, he could easily label her an imposter and have her

Ousted. n

Her lashes cast a shadow as she continued her inquiries.

"What about the man who's been following you? He seemed dangerous tonight." His sudden appearance and the aura of menace he carried were unsettling.

Did Max's keen eye for people mean even those closest to him could betray him? Max didn't answer immediately, instead, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "I'll have someone handle him."

His response didn't satisfy Brielle. She lay beside Max, staring straight at him. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, she turned and straddled his waist.

He inhaled sharply, his jawline tensing.

The desire in his eyes was striking, his gaze predatory in the dim light.

"Max, I don't know who to trust anymore," she confessed, her voice laced with uncertainty.

Her words doused the fire between them. Max's hands settled on her waist with a measure of restraint.

Brielle leaned into his chest, her voice soft yet seeking assurance, "But I can trust you, right?"