Master of his heart (Max and Brielle) novel Chapter 867

The car door clicked shut softly, and the vehicle eased into the night. He watched her silhouette in the rearview mirror, shrinking until it disappeared into the darkness.

Inside the car, a warm light flickered on, casting a cozy glow over the leather seats. He reached into his black coat and pulled out a broken fortune stick, now clumsily mended with glue. The crack was still there, mocking his helplessness.

He turned the stick over to see four words engraved in the wood: “Perfect Match Made in Heaven.” Even the soothsayers at Radiant Light Church could spin a tale, it seemed.

Brielle braved the drizzle, heading back to her hotel. From a distance, she saw Max under a black umbrella, deep in conversation on his phone. As she neared, he instinctively tilted the umbrella to cover her.

His face was grim, and it was clear that the conversation was serious—likely about the Dorsey family. The hotel manager, a blonde foreigner, stood nearby, waiting for Max’s instructions.

Brielle stayed silent, sensing the tension. Max seemed colder than usual, perhaps due to the wet, chilly air. His fingers, pale against the silver umbrella handle, showed no warmth.

After he ended the call, he gave her a quick glance but didn’t ask where she’d been. Someone else approached, reporting that they’d lost someone.

“Hmm,” Max responded indifferently, handing off the umbrella and switching to English to speak with the hotel manager. From their conversation, Brielle gathered that this hotel belonged to Max.

Soaked from the rain, she followed him into the hotel room in silence. Before she could explain herself, he asked, “Are you cold?”

She was, and her breath came out in visible puffs. He went to the bathroom and started running a hot bath.

“This is my private room. Take a bath,” he said, implying that everything here was clean and untouched by others.

Brielle stepped into the bathroom and sank into the tub, her mind a whirl of thoughts. His lack of questions made her uneasy.