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*#*Max Dorsey had rigged the equipment himself. **
Brielle was stunned into silence, feeling the sting as if she were the one who had been slapped, not Alivia.
"Liar," Max spat, kneeling down to punish her again.
Tears welled up in Brielle's eyes. After what felt like forever, she watched as Max stood up, his desires now in
disarray. Seeing this usually composed man lose control left her defenses shattered; she had already
surrendered. She was about to speak when his fingertip slipped into her mouth, pinching the tip of her tongue.
"Don't talk; | won't like what you have to say."
Her eyes, still glistening from the tears, met his. Unable to utter a word, she could only stare. Max ignored her
silence and bent down to kiss away the moisture from her lips before moving on to his main course. With Max,
Brielle never spoke her truth. It was best to keep her mouth shut.
As they were winding down, Brielle was so exhausted she could barely keep her eyes open. Considering she had
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtjust been discharged from the hospital, Max held back, scooping her into his arms and preparing to leave. All the
surveillance along the route had been disabled. He got into the car, holding her close.
Patrick was driving, mulling things over before deciding to spill the beans. "There are a bunch of new cameras
around Pearl Estate, probably put up by the old man to keep tabs on you and Ms. Brielle," he said. "We've dealt
with the ones around Premier Palace. Since you haven't been answering your phone, the old man's getting
aggressive."
"Hmm, is James' family taken care of?" Max asked.
"They've been secretly moved out of the country with thirty million bucks. They're in a scenic, safe place, and
the old man won't be able to find them."
Max looked down and patted Brielle's cheek. "Did you hear that?"
Brielle, eyes closed, kept pretending to sleep.
Max chuckled, a bit exasperated, his eyes reddening slightly. He pressed his lips together and gently put her
down outside the car. "Brielle, do you really think I'm invincible?"
Her feet had barely touched the ground when she "woke up." Sweat beaded on her forehead; she didn't dare
look at him through the car window.
Inside, Max reached over and pressed her head down for a forceful kiss. "How about we keep this quiet, just
between us? Deal?"
If she refused again, he'd lock her away in Premier Palace right then and there, since her mouth always seemed
to speak in contradictions.
Brielle's legs were unsteady, her voice hoarse. Max braced for another sharp retort, but instead, she opened the
car door and climbed back in. "Patrick, could you step out for a moment, please?" she asked, her voice raspy and
cheeks flushed.
Patrick didn't dare refuse and scampered off faster than anyone.
Max frowned, wondering what trick she was about to pull-was it a breakup, or a declaration of dislike? But a
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmsecond later, the car windows rolled up. Her fingers went this belt, unbuckling it.
Standing at a distance, Patrick's mind raced with possible scenarios: the car shaking, a hand pressed against the
window...
But there was nothing. Only silence from the car.
He waited patiently, lighting a cigarette. Though Max smoked, he didn't actually like the smell, so as his
assistant, Patrick smoked even less. But with the stress of Brielle's hospitalization and Max's foul mood, he felt
like he was constantly in the presence of a chilling air conditioner. Now that the two seemed to be reconciling, he
wanted to set off fireworks.
Inside the car, Max held Brielle's hair between his fingers, the scent of her shampoo intoxicating. He tilted his
head back, his Adam's apple bobbing. Deadly. This vindictive little woman. Half an hour later, Brielle stepped out
of the car, wiping her lips. Through the window, Max watched her, a red-hot sting in his gaze.
...