Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)

Emma thought Dustin would come back, maybe in a day, maybe in a week. After getting everything settled with her mother, she noticed a pile of firewood in the yard, chopped by Dustin himself.

She was swamped with endless chores daily, with gathering herbs, drying them, and selling them taking priority. When Dustin felt a bit better, he had offered to help by chopping some wood, carrying the axe with determination to ease her burden. But since he was still

recovering, the task took him the entire morning.

As Emma stoked the fire to cook dinner, she couldn't quite place the emotion stirring inside her. The sound of coughing from inside the house snapped her out of it, and she pushed aside her thoughts; after all, he would come back eventually.

However, come evening, a neighbor popped over with news that someone had visited her home yesterday, seemingly a relative of Dustin's.

"They looked pretty wealthy, waited here all evening, but you were off to town selling your herbs, weren't you?" the neighbor jeered.

"I reckon they're just some rich folks passing through. Don't get your hopes up; someone like that would never fancy you."

"I bet he's got a fiancée back in the city."

The neighbor had always enjoyed belittling Emma, and now with the dashing man gone, they relished tossing these barbs her way. Clutching the axe, Emma split several logs with a ferocity that sent shivers through the neighbor, who then awkwardly excused themselves and left.

"Emma, cough, cough."

Her mother's weak voice called out from inside. Emma quickly put the axe down and brought her a glass of warm water.

"He's gone?" Her mother's voice was frail, her appearance gaunt. Emma nodded, helped her drink, and then grabbed the broom to start sweeping the floor.

"Last night, quite a few people came by, must've been his family." Emma paused mid-sweep, regretting she never met his family members.

"Emma, if he's gone, he's gone," her mother whispered. Emma said nothing, just diligently cleaned the house from top to bottom, and when she lay in bed that night, thoughts of their time in the cave surfaced. It was as if a prince from the heavens had graced the earth. Now that the dream was over, he had returned to his celestial realm. Descending to weather a trial, and once completed, the trifles of the human world were but a flick of the finger to him, unworthy of remembrance.

Meanwhile, Brielle had returned to Beaconsfield. As soon as she landed, Max insisted on a full medical check-up. She complied without delay, knowing better than to postpone. After a battery of tests, which caused her to vomit several times, she had lost considerable weight from the ordeal. Throughout the day, Max's phone rang almost every half hour, but he would only speak briefly before hanging up. The doctors gave the same verdict: due to Brielle's health, the pregnancy could not continue. This was conveyed to her in hushed tones.

Max, lips pursed, stood silently in the hallway, pulling out a cigarette but, remembering he was in a hospital, slowly put it back. Spotting him alone as she emerged, Brielle asked weakly, "Do I need to be hospitalized?"

Max's eyelashes fluttered at the question, sniffing himself to ensure there was no trace of smoke, before enveloping her in an embrace.

"No, we'll head back to Pearl Estate," he said, deliberately choosing Pearl Estate over Premier Palace. Brielle nodded, and as they made their way downstairs, they were greeted by a convoy of cars from the Dorsey family, with William at the helm.

William had been searching for Max these past days, and upon catching wind that Max had returned to Beaconsfield, he rushed over without pause. Flanking William were several lawyers.

"Max, these lawyers will discuss the matter of your stepping down as CEO of Dorsey International. You've stolen from the Dorsey family, and we have every right to sue you," William announced with smug satisfaction, almost gleefully.