Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

After she finished speaking, she didn't wait for his reply; her lips landed softly on his.

Max's hands shifted from her waist to her back, patting gently in a comforting rhythm. The pressure of the kiss lightened. Their positions switched in an instant.

Brielle was indeed tired, too weary to move, so she simply raised her hands to encircle his neck. He was gentler than before, occasionally kissing the corners of her eyes in a soothing manner. But Brielle was truly exhausted. Her hands slowly dropped, and she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, she woke up still nestled in his embrace. One of his hands was tapping away at the keyboard, while the other cradled her head, keeping her securely by his side. This gesture filled her with a sense of security, prompting her to nuzzle contentedly in the palm of his hand.

Brielle didn't rush to speak or get out of bed. Instead, she indulged in the warmth a little longer. When room service arrived with breakfast, she finally made her way leisurely to the bathroom to freshen up.

During breakfast, she wanted to share the secret she'd been harboring with Max. But the thought of the mute man lurking in the shadows cast a gloom over her, and she listlessly picked at the food on her plate. "Brielle?"

"Hmm?"Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

"Do you have a beef with that steak or something?"

Brielle looked down at her plate. The steak was poked and prodded into an unappetizing mess. Max swapped her plate for a classic American breakfast nearby. "What's up? You seem distracted. Something on your mind?"

Brielle shook her head and silently sipped her soup. After eating, she stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, admiring the view outside. Max took a call on the side. His phone had been off the night before, and as soon as he turned it back on, it was bombarded with calls. But he handled them all with ease.

Once he hung up, he saw Brielle daydreaming and approached her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "Were you scared last night?"

Brielle tensed up, then slowly relaxed again. "No, just trying to figure out what's real and what's not." This identity had been hidden for over two decades. The longer she stayed, the more she felt like she was hanging in the air, untethered.

Max kissed her ear and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm here."

Brielle fell silent, then heard him ask, "I'm off to see the professor. Want to come along?"

Perfect, Brielle was curious about this so-called professor as well. It might be good to tag along. But when they arrived, they were informed that the professor had gone to the research institute and was not seeing visitors.

Max's eyes narrowed, and he pulled Brielle into his embrace. "Got any plans for today?"

Brielle had been out of sorts all morning, even somewhat adrift. Now, faced with his question, she genuinely didn't know what to do.

Meanwhile, back at the villa, the

professor was indeed sitting in the

living room. A servant came to

venet

report that the two had left. The professor's face was covered bushy beard, and he wore

gold-rimmed glasses. Putting down the newspaper, he took a sip of his bitter, aromatic coffee.

"Sasha said you couldn't bring yourself to do it?"

The man didn't respond, just poured himself a cup of coffee. The professor narrowed his eyes, then shook his head gently. "You should learn from Annie. That kid has never known emotion, so she does whatever she pleases." "I can't."

"I should never have let you meet her. If it had been someone else, she might already be dead."

"And you, why do you keep him alive?"

The atmosphere around the professor turned icy as he gripped his coffee cup. "You're overstepping." A chill of menace filled the room. The shadowed figure bowed his head slightly, silently enjoying his coffee. "Godfather."

Annie walked in from outside, reeking of blood, and wiped her hands with a handkerchief in dissatisfaction. "Why didn't you let my senior bring Brielle here? I might have had a chance."

It seemed Anņie was unaware of the

professor's past deeds in

Beaconsfield. If Brielle walked in,

eli

with her intelligence, she would see right through the professor's identity. The professor picked up a sugar cube with tongs, dropped it into his coffee, and sipped it elegantly.

"Tonight, someone will distract Max."

The implication was clear: no more hesitation, no more mercy. Annie tossed the bloodied handkerchief aside, her face alight with excitement.