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Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 193
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Chapter 193

Dustin sat down in frustration, furrowing his brows tightly. He heard a soft, delicate voice

from beside him, “Mr. Lynch, you and Brielle…”

Tessa couldn’t help but succumb to another coughing fit, her cheeks flushing with the

effort.

Dustin raised an eyebrow and let out a lazy grin, stretching his legs onto the coffee table.

“Brielle? Brielle just makes me feel familiar. It’s Aubree I’m really into. Eve got the whole

scene planned out in my head. Just the other day, I had a brief chat with Brielle about art.

She seemed to dig my vibe. Wonder if Aubree would feel the same.

His words left nothing to the imagination. Tessa frowned. So, Brielle had snagged another

one on her overseas escapades. She hated to admit it, but Brielle was a looker. Such a

shame, though, just another woman men played with.

Dustin stood up, his gaze sweeping past Andrew with a smirk. “Mr. Clements is one lucky

guy. having such a pretty sister and an attractive fiancée.”

Tessa felt a pang of discomfort. She and Aubree were nothing alike. If it hadn’t been for

Aubree’s stroke of luck, being taken in by the Clements family as a foster child, she

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wouldn’t have been in Andrew’s league at all.

But to Andrew, Dustin’s words seemed to hint that he knew about his relationship with

Aubree. He chuckled. “Mr. Lynch, didn’t you just say you didn’t mind used goods?”

Dustin’s brow furrowed. He always knew he played the field, but Andrew seemed even

less principled, blatantly so.

Instantly, he lost interest in Aubree. She would never forget Andrew, and he disliked the

thought of a woman’s heart occupied by another while in his bed. Romance and love are

nothing compared to the direct pleasure of the body. He never bothered with them.

And Brielle, she had always felt familiar. They got along well. She wasn’t like the others.

He didn’t want her to stumble over such trivial matters.

Besides, Brielle and Max? That was going nowhere fast. Ignoring Max’s obvious

cluelessness in the matter, Michael was a huge obstacle in itself. Maybe once they split, he

could swoop in and score some points with Brielle.

Dustin chuckled to himself, deciding not to fall into the pit Max had dug. “I really don’t

mind, but Mr. Clements, are you sure she’d be willing to keep me company?”

“Just send me your room number, and I’ll pass it to Aubree. Whether she comes or not is

up to her.”

Dustin averted his gaze, picking up his coat from nearby. “No need. I’m not one to coerce.

These kinds of things are best when they’re mutual.”

He stepped out of Tequila Sunset, lighting a cigarette, and slid into his car that had been

waiting.

1/2

14:15

Chapter 195

Nearby stood Max.

Dustin couldn’t help but smirk as he drove up. “Mr. Dorsey, a man of your stature without

a lift? Need a ride?”

It was a deliberate taunt. “Just remembered, my destination and your Premier Palace

aren’t on the way. Never mind, then. Is the designated driver Mr. Dorsey called on the

way? Take your time. I’ll be off.”

Dustin may have been the first to mock Max to his face. As he finished, another car pulled

up. its window rolling down to reveal Brielle’s face. It was a surprise to both men.

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Hadn’t she left with Aubree?

Why had she come back?

Brielle honked twice, poking her head out.

Max’s stoic features softened with a smile, like a flickering candle in the night. He glanced

at Dustin. “No need for your trouble, Mr. Lynch. My ride’s here. Until next time.”

Fuming, Dustin rolled down his window, intending to exchange a few words with Brielle,

but Max had already shut himself in the car, preventing her from seeing him.

Clutching the steering wheel, Dustin couldn’t fathom why Brielle would entangle herself

with such a man.

Unaware of Dustin’s presence, Brielle saw Max get into the car and gently reached to

fasten his

Seatbelt.

Max’s eyes were half–closed, his Adam’s apple prominent as he leaned back. As Brielle

pulled The seatbelt across, she heard him ask, “Weren’t we

supposed to call it quits?” His tone was Indifferent, as if the night’s frustration had

belonged to someone else.

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