Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

"Don't worry, as long as you play nice, she'll be fine."

Brielle let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Just as she was about to ask what he really wanted, his voice came through the line again, this time with an unsettling warmth. "Brielle, I've missed you."

Her whole body went rigid, a chill creeping down her spine, goosebumps popping up all over. This wasn't funny at all-it felt like he was spinning a ghost story.

She stayed silent, and he waited patiently on the other end.

After a minute, he chuckled, but his voice lost its warmth, turning darker.

"You better sweet-talk me a little, or I can't promise my guys won't do something to Aubree."

His lips curled into a smirk as he looked at a huge surveillance screen showing Brielle's face. In the cramped space of the car, she sat up straight, her expression calm but filled with disgust.

She was stunning, every expression captivating. The thought of hiding her away, out of sight from everyone else, was tempting. Was Max really holding her down every night, kissing her lips? Damn it. Brielle's grip on her phone tightened, a sense of horror creeping over her. Maybe it was the recent dreams about this man that made his sudden appearance so revolting and terrifying. But she had to stay cool. This guy was crazier than anyone she'd ever met.

"King, do we have some kind of history or something?"

The first time she met him at the casino, she felt something familiar about him but could never figure out who he might be.

The guy was a walking contradiction, always lurking in the shadows, quietly watching every move in Beaconsfield. He was like a snake in the dark, ready to strike when you least expected it. Obsessively watching her on the screen, his eyes clouded with a hint of sadness at her deflection.

"I asked for sweet talk, and you're changing the subject."

Brielle bit her lip, her hand clenched at her side, feeling humiliated and disgusted. It had been a while since she left the Premier Palace. Max must have returned by now, right? Had he noticed she was gone? King read her expression and knew what she was thinking.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"Waiting for Max to come rescue you?"

There was amusement and a chill in his tone, like he was watching a joke unfold.

"Brielle, that's the thing with Max, too stubborn to let you know when he's hurt."

A shiver ran down Brielle's spine, fearing this was his tactic to break her down.

"Recently, he's been with you in the villa, utterly devoted. You've been happy, but he's been in agony every minute. Especially as time goes on, he can hardly sleep from the pain. Haven't you noticed him zoning out more lately?"

Brielle didn't respond, but her pale face betrayed the truth in King's words. Max had indeed been bending over backward to be good to her indulging her without limits, ignoring everything else as if she were his sole focus.

In love, everyone is selfish.

Brielle didn't care about Max's status, whether past or present. All she wanted was simple: to start a family with Max, have a beautiful baby, and live out their days in peace.

So the fact that Max was no longer the CEO of Dorsey International secretly delighted her. But she also knew it was selfish. A man with ambitions couldn't be confined by a fleeting romance. She longed for more time together, yet neglected Max's feelings.

Before she could speak up, King continued.

"He wasn't distracted, he was in pain

and couldn't focus on your words, only pretending to zone out. Remember that text you sent him? He dropped everything he was planning and rushed to your side. And you, you never asked what he was busy with when he vanished. Maybe deep down, you sensed that you were holding him back from something big. But you're greedy, you're fragile. Even knowing you were pregnant, you still wanted him at your side."

The last bit of color drained from Brielle's face, her hand squeezing so tightly that the pain seemed to pierce her heart.

"Max, you know, he gave up the plans he'd made with Brodie to be with you. All because you said you were pregnant."

King's voice floated lightly, his fingertips slowly pinching a grape as if he held a grudge against the fruit. The juice stained his fingertips, turning his nails a deep purple.

A suppressed temptation lingered in the air.