Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

The moment seemed to stretch out endlessly before Michael burst into laughter, loud and wild, like he had just heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Brielle, who are you talking to?" he asked, a mocking edge in his voice.

Brielle instinctively stepped in front of Max, eyes sharp and wary. "What do you want, Michael?"

Michael was convinced now-she had lost her mind.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha," he bellowed, his laughter a bizarre symphony in the otherwise silent room.

"Look, I admit I've lost, but you haven't won either, Brielle. Take a good look around. Is Max really here? The fire at the manor... I heard you were the only survivor. Did Max die in the flames? If so, good riddance. It means I haven't truly lost. Isn't life just like that? All the scheming, and in the end, we're left empty-handed."

Brielle's body tensed, her face flushed with anger.

But she kept her cool. Clearly, Michael was trying to provoke her.

"Michael, the Dorsey family is done for. There's no need for these jabs. Max cut ties with your family long ago. So, I owe you nothing."

She looped her arm through Max's, eager to leave Michael and his insanity behind.

But Michael grabbed her sleeve, his laughter growing even more maniacal.

"I thought I was the tragic one, but you, Brielle, you're the real tragedy. No more Max, and the life you carried is gone too. Normal folks can't bear such blows. It's expected you'd go mad. Sanity would be the abnormal reaction. Pitiful, truly pitiful. We're all pitiable ! creatures."

Brielle's features turned icy as she prepared to retort, but Aubree held her back.

"Enough, Bri. Let's not stoop to his level. Let's go inside."

But Michael thrived on Brielle's distress. Now, all he had was money from selling Dorsey International. But what use was it? He wanted the thriving company, not just cold cash.

"Brielle, look around. Is anyone there? If you don't believe me, ask Aubree. She's your best friend, right? She wouldn't lie to you. Ask her Is Max by your side? The fire reduced him to ashes. No wonder there's been no news of him. You've hidden it well. I thought he was just critically injured. Such a shame; after all, he was my finest creation."

Brielle paled, then turned to Aubree.

"Aubree, he's here with me, right? Max is here?"

Aubree hesitated, avoiding Brielle's gaze, then nodded. "Yes, it's him. Who else could it be?"

Aubree, the rising star of their generation, had already scored a blockbuster hit and was on the track to awards, but in front of Brielle, her presence felt almost invisible.

Brielle raised her hand, touching the air where Max's cheek should be.

"How could

Sight here. Michael,

De? See, he's clearly

you he's not? Aubree,

carefully-is he really

Her hand moved through empty space, and Aubree, close to tears, could no longer bear it and grabbed Brielle's arm.

"Bri, maybe we should head back, okay?"

Brielle froze, then reality hit her like.

cold,

The hand that

a

have felt warm flesh toll mee

nothing but air. Content

It was as if she'd been slapped awake from a beautiful dream.

She glanced at her fingertips-pale, empty.

Defiantly, she reached out again-still nothing.

Just air.

Frantically, she pulled out her phone and dialed Max's number. It went straight to voicemail.

No answer, no Max.

The dream was over.

Brielle collapsed to the ground.

At the sight, Michael's laughter grew even sharper.

Nobody had won; they were all losers.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha."

He laughed his way out, bumping into Ramey who had just entered.

Seeing Aubree's panicked expression, Ramey hurried over and delivered a swift chop to the back of Brielle's neck.

She slumped, limp as a rag doll.

Tears streamed down Aubree's face, her body weak with grief.

Somehow, she and Ramey managed to help Brielle into the car.

།

Through her sobs, Aubree's chest ached painfully. If only she'd known they would encounter Michael, she would never have come to the hospital.