Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

He took a deep breath and gently patted her shoulder. "Get some rest. I'll wake you when Dustin gets here."

Brielle was completely worn out. She had spent the last couple of days traveling, and now that she was finally home, she faced a mountain of issues with the Dorsey family. She could tell Max had a lot on his plate too, but he dropped everything to be with her the moment she sent that text.

She didn't even get the chance to ask if her message had messed up his plans before she drifted off to sleep.

Max stepped out onto the balcony, staring into the distance. His phone lay next to him, still turned off. He wanted to smoke to calm his nerves, but remembering that Brielle was pregnant, he resisted the urge.

Turning his phone back on, he ignored a slew of missed calls and dialed his trusted doctor to arrange a comprehensive check-up. Expectant mothers can be easily upset, and Brielle had already faced a traumatic experience concerning a child before. Although she hadn't been pregnant then, the pain was real. So when it came to anything about the baby, she couldn't stay calm and deal with it properly.

After hanging up with his private doctor, Max's phone rang again. Seeing the number, his brows furrowed in reluctance. He answered just as the screen was about to go dark, and an anxious voice came through.

"When are you coming over? Have you lost your mind?"

Max glanced outside, his voice rough. "Brielle's pregnant, I thought="

He didn't get to finish; the person on the other end cut him off. "After all the planning you've done, you drop everything and rush over because she's pregnant. Father has found out that I've been helping you, Max. I won't last much longer, and neither will your health." Max coughed twice, his eyelashes drooping. "The doctor said the baby isn't viable."

The news seemed to drive the person on the other end mad, but after a few minutes, they calmed down, knowing this must have hit Max hard. He had said many times how much he looked forward to his child, whether a boy or a girl. As soon as he knew Brielle was expecting, he rushed to her side.

"Max, if you can hold on just a bit longer, Father won't detect anything this time. He won't find out I've been helping you."

Max leaned his elbow on the cool railing, his tone nonchalant. "What's the situation like?"

"He's on his way here, and he's taken control of my lab. He won't be giving you any more medication. You won't last long."

As soon as he finished speaking, there was the sound of a door being kicked in on the other end, and the phone was snatched away. Michael's voice followed.

"Max, is this what you call a proper talk?"Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

Michael's tone was icy. He glanced at the sterile lab and then at the middle-aged man in a wheelchair, his third son, whose legs had been crippled in an attempt to save him. His lips curled into a sneer.

"The third child was crippled trying to save you, and now he's been quietly helping you again. Shame, he was never truly one of the Dorseys, always against me."

After Michael said this, he sighed.

"You've been doing well these years,

managing the Dorsey empire effectively. I thought you might care for the family, like Martha. But her death didn't stir anything in you. You never thought of breaking free from me before, but ever since Brielle came into your life, you developed unnecessary emotions."

He despised Brielle, blaming her for ruining his perfect creation.

Brodie, sitting in the wheelchair, rubbed his temples. He was still wearing his doctor's white coat, and the lab was obviously equipped for pharmaceutical research. Many in Beaconsfield had forgotten about the third Dorsey son, as he had been missing for too long. No one knew where he had been all these years. But in his youth, Brodie was a leading pharmacist internationally. With his prolonged absence, people had long forgotten what he did.

Michael pulled out a white vial from his pocket, containing the medication Max had needed for years. Michael had always claimed he would give Max one last chance, that hehad an ace up his sleeve. That ace was the medication, which Max needed to take once a month, and only Michael had access to it.