Master of his heart

Chapter 148

Chapter 148

Andrew had just been swindled out of thirty million, and harboring resentment towards Brielle was a oven. He’d never been so thoroughly duped by a woman before. Thus, when Max didn’t reob. Andrew anxiously started sending messages again.

[You’re not seriously considering marrying her, are you? With a woman like Brielle, if she actually falls for you, good luck trying to shake her off.]

Not getting married.]

Max replied to that query pretty swiftly. He had no feelings for Brielle, had never contemplated marriage, and therefore, a future with her was absolutely out of the question.

After responding, Max stopped paying attention to the conversation and instead focused on the pile of documents in front of him.

It was bedtime, yet he felt not the slightest hint of sleepiness. After all the recent upheaval, he

wondered how Brielle was feeling. Was she at her apartment?

With these thoughts in mind, he slowly stood, picking up his suit jacket. Just as he reached the downstairs, he ran into Wesley, who was warming up some milk. “Sir, you’re up late.”

with his suit Wesley

Patrick to drive you

“No need.”

already reached the foyer, his demeanor as businesslike as

his retreating figure, Wesley thus about how

here he was, off to handle more company matters. Wesley decided it was time to brew some hearty soup to help Max sustain his energy.

he doing? Why was he out in the dead of night, looking

and Brielle were clear on the nature of their relationship – they clicked, so they played their roles in this charade. There was no need for seriousness. And certainly no need

Max’s exit from

up in this building, those ads gave him a moment of discomfort. It wasn’t that he looked down on the place; rather, he thought it odd

Chapter 148

the familiar door and

might be, was likely awake. After ringing the bell three times with no answer, he remembered WhatsApp and sent

[Where are you?]

a chilly hospital corridor, the air damp and cold.

and finally, the lights in the operating room went out, and the doctor

his eyes red with fatigue, “Does the patient have other children? We didn’t miss the golden hour for treatment, but his constitution is weak. He’ll be wheelchair–dependent from now

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