Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Alivia worried that if she stayed any longer, she would be physically sick, so she set down her spoon, her complexion ghostly pale, pretending to sip her soup.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Max had finished eating. Suppressing the howl of frustration and anger that threatened to burst from within, she watched him with a feigned gentleness. "Max, I spoke with the doctor. He said if Martha can hold and just get through the next three days, she'll be out of danger."

By out of danger, she meant no risk to Martha's life. Becoming comatose was all but a certainty.

She broached the subject at this moment as a warning to Max - your thoughts may be with Brielle, but remember, it's Brielle who's driven your mother to the brink of a vegetative state. How can you remain indifferent? Sure enough, she saw Max's fingertips tremble slightly and his eyelashes cast downward.

His skin was too perfect, bathed in the glow of the setting sun. It was too easy to be overwhelmed by the urge to spend a lifetime by his side.

Alivia felt an irrepressible fondness wash over her, further solidifying her resolve that any sacrifice was justifiable for Max.

She was determined to marry into the Dorsey family. Everyone would have to make way for her love.

Hadn't she once masterminded Tessa's successful marriage to Andrew? Surely, what worked for Tessa could work for her as well.

It was just a matter of timing.

Max hadn't yet reached the point of complete disillusionment with Brielle. When he had accumulated enough disappointment, that would be Alivia's moment to strike.

Max said nothing, simply stood up, and headed toward the intensive care unit.

There, he encountered Michael.

Leaning on a cane, the once omnipotent patriarch of the Dorsey family looked unexpectedly alone, sitting in the hospital corridor.

Max had always believed that there was no love between his parents - after all, Michael had had more than one wife, but it was Martha who had outlived the others, the rest having died under mysterious circumstances. "Father," Max called out, sitting down beside him.

Michael gripped his cane, looking suddenly aged. "Max, I've spoken to the doctors. The best-case scenario for your mother is that she remains comatose. I've been thinking, you never should have brought her back to Beaconsfield."

A pang of guilt hit Max. His mother's condition had been even worse abroad, and it was out of necessity that she had been transferred home, but no one had anticipated the tragedy that would unfold here.

"Don't blame Martha. Everyone

knows Brielle isn't right for you."

Michael chose the path of emotional appeal, a softer but often more effective method than directo confrontation.

Max's brow furrowed, likely aware of his father's purpose for this visit.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

Michael was here to see Martha, yes, but also to continue exerting pressure on him to end things with Brielle.

Max couldn't understand this. He

would ask for something his entire life, and it had always been handed to him. But why was it that the one thing he truly wanted on his own was met with universal opposition?

Brielle wasn't the evil woman everyone made her out to be. On the contrary, she made him feel that the world was meaningful.

The landscapes they had seen together were more vibrant and more captivating than ever before. His world was no longer just dry numbers and text. It had taken on a warmth.

The one thing he wanted, fought for, and couldn't let go of was Brielle, but this tiny wish was unforgivable in the eyes of others.

Wasn't he the CEO of Dorsey International?

As a child, his mother had told him that once he reached this position and became a man above others, he could have anything he desired without opposition.

But Martha was deceiving him, it seemed. At his peak, wanting anything meant everyone would try to stop him.

"Father, I've already spoken to the police. James will spend his life behind bars."

Michael's grip on his cane tightened, a hint of irony flashing in his eyes, but he hid it well, his face maintaining the worn expression of a regular, aging father. This was a game of psychological warfare.

"But do you know, Brielle has met

with James alone and even been in contact with James' cronies? Haven't you considered that she can't bear to see the entire Fox family incarcerated, that she might do something about it?"

A shadow passed through Max's gaze.

"There won't be such a day."

"And if there is? Max, do you really know Brielle?"

A chill emanated from Max, sharp as ice. In his presence, it seemed as though everything could be frostbitten.

"Brielle loves me. She wouldn't do that."