Master of his heart (Max and Brielle) novel Chapter 1086

Kenzo's thoughts were raw and intense. If Max had once managed to break through Brielle's defenses, making her bear a child while holding her captive, couldn’t he do the same? Possessing a woman seemed so straightforward to him.

His eyelashes fluttered as he remembered seeing Max kiss Brielle. The allure in her eyes matched any natural beauty he'd ever seen. Jealousy, he realized, was a terrifying beast.

He wanted her—irrationally, grotesquely, given his feelings were unreciprocated. But Pandora's box was open; the sin had spread, unstoppable.

In a remote village in Beaconsfield, Emma was chopping wood, her ears catching the gossip of neighboring women.

"That one’s dowry was like hitting the jackpot—three hundred thousand! And the guy even threw in a car."

"True that. She’s a real looker, unlike some tomboys around here. Pushing thirty and still single. It’s like they’re cursed."

"And with that burden at home, no wonder no chap’s come knocking. It'd be like marrying into a mess."

As Emma finished with the wood, she picked up a stone and hurled it at them, hitting her mark and eliciting yelps of surprise.

She was tempted to chase after them, but a cough from inside the house stopped her. Wiping her hands on her apron, she hurried in.

"Emma, *cough* *cough*."

The frail woman leaning on a cane had heard the cruel words too. In this rural setting, being unmarried past twenty was a scandal.

Emma supported her, "Mom, let's get you some sun."

Her mother managed a smile, welcoming the warmth outside. Emma fetched water to warm up for her mother's bath later.

Peyton, enjoying a rare moment of peace, couldn't help but ask about the man who'd visited.

"Guess he won’t be coming back, huh?"

Emma stiffened, adding wood to the fire, "Yeah, probably."

"How could you be so careless? Whose child is this? If people find out, how can we stay here?"

The beating continued, Emma’s skin breaking under the strikes, yet she remained silent, biting back tears.

Peyton, weeping and shaking, cried, "Who will want you now? You're killing me!"

Emma, worried for her mother’s health, pleaded, "Mom, don’t be mad. I can earn money. We don’t need a man."

Another strike came. Emma braced herself, accepting the pain.

"An unwed mother will be scorned everywhere. Your child will be judged. Listen to me, we'll end this. I’ll brew a potion; you’ll drink it. No one else must know."

Emma remained silent, understanding the harsh reality. Born out of wedlock in a poor, traditional village meant a life of ridicule for both her and her child. The Moll family, lacking a son and with Emma still unmarried, was already the butt of local jokes.