Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Aubree frowned, resisting the childish urge to toss her keys on the floor. Instead, she re-entered the house and placed them neatly in the hallway drawer. "Well, I'm leaving now," she said.

Andrew remained silent, following her outside as if in denial.

Aubree stopped in her tracks, a bitter taste in her mouth. What was she doing? When she loved him, she bent over backwards to please him, ready to give him her heart on a silver platter, and he barely gave her the time of day. Now, filled with enough disappointment to walk away, he seemed to be showing signs of reluctance. Is this human nature, to desire what's slipping away?

She reached for her car door, but his hoarse voice stopped her. "Aubree, I love you," he said.

Her foot paused mid-air, her whole body stiffened. She turned around in disbelief, half-convinced she was hallucinating. Andrew stood there, eyes red, mistaking her pause for a sign of softening, his tone growing more desperate. "Really, I—"

But before he could finish, his cheek was met with a stinging slap. Aubree's hand trembled, tears threatening to spill from the sheer anger. She could hardly believe Andrew would stoop so low to keep someone. Love? How dare he utter such a word. "Andrew, you're such a jerk."

His head reeled from the slap, and hearing her words, he just lowered his lashes and muttered a subdued "Yeah." But his resigned attitude didn't bring Aubree any satisfaction; it only tightened the knot in her chest. Her eyes welled up, her nose tingling, fearing that if she stayed any longer, her resolve would crumble.

Her car door stood open, and she wanted to get in, but her phone chose that moment to ring-it was a call from the Clements family.

The Clements were not the sort to remember her often, sometimes not even on major occasions, and certainly not for something as significant as shares in the family business. Marissa had always disliked her, and Aubree couldn't fathom why she would suddenly bestow shares upon her. Aubree was never one for airs and graces; turning down a fortune just wasn't her style. Why play the martyr when it only led to personal suffering?Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

"Aunt Marissa, what's up?" she answered.

Marissa's voice came through cool and detached, "Ask Andrew where he's hidden Tessa. She's his wife, after all, and he shouldn't be reckless."

Aubree looked up at Andrew, no longer hiding anything. "Mom wants to know where you've hidden Tessa?"

Andrew snatched the phone from

е

her hand. Marissa, sensing the change in speaker, began to scoff. "Don't you dare drag the Clements name through the mud. Do you want us to be the laughingstock of the social circle like the Rowland clan or the Barnes family? Andrew, you agreed to this marriage. It was your choice. Why are you still entangled with Aubree? How do you think she views you?"

Andrew didn't answer her last question, but he did respond to the first. "Tessa is fine."

Marissa could guess he had confined Tessa somewhere, frustration simmering in her tone. "I won't agree to a divorce. You better get that idea out of your head."

Without a word, Andrew hung up the phone and handed it back to Aubree. Feeling agitated, Aubree bent to get into her car, and this time, Andrew didn't stop her. He watched the car drive away, standing motionless until the warmth drained from his body before returning to his room.

As soon as Aubree's belongings

were gone, the room seemed to double in size and the air changed. He lingered at the doorway before stepping into the bathroom to retrieve the clothes Aubree had throw in the trash. He placed them on the washstand, poured some detergent, and rubbed them clean with unpracticed hands. The clothes were washed but not machine-dried; he still hadn't mastered that. After hanging them up, water began to drip from the fabric.

Andrew was still damp himself, but he was oblivious, slightly intoxicated, feeling dizzy. He slumped onto the sofa, leaning back with closed eyes, At two in the morning, just as he was dozing off, his phone rang with news that Tessa had escaped.

Andrew woke with a jolt, his

expression grim. "Can't you keep

tabs on one woman? Where did she go?"

The voice on the other end spoke of ongoing searches, and Andrew cursed, "Useless!"