Chapter 442

Brielle awoke to a feeling of utter exhaustion, her body devoid of strength. She could hear voices outside her room, murmuring in hushed tones.

“The poor girl lost the baby. They forced some meds on her and did the D&C.”

“Wasn’t she out of it when she arrived? Why did they even need anesthesia?”

“They performed an appendectomy. If she had gotten here any later, that appendix would’ve done her in.”‘

“It’s a shame. So young, and now it’s going to be tough for her to get pregnant again.”

“High society is a minefield of drama, isn’t it? We can’t disobey Ms. Martha’s orders. If anyone’s to blame, it’s just her rotten luck.”

Lying there, staring at the stark white ceiling tiles, Brielle felt the pain not just in her body but spreading across her heart. She blinked her stinging eyes, trying to lift a finger to touch her surgical scars, but she was too drained, completely spent.

Why was being with Max so exhausting? What was so wrong about loving someone that an innocent life had to pay the price?

Biting her lip, she looked at the ceiling, tears silently trailing down her face.

Having deliberately spoken within earshot, the two doctors exchanged a knowing glance. Their task was complete. Back in their office, they couldn’t help but sigh. “When will we stop being a part of these dirty deeds?”

“We know too much. Do you think we can just walk away clean? It’s unfortunate for the girl, but if it weren’t for the appendectomy, she’d have realized soon enough that she hadn’t had a D&C. But now, with this surgery, she’ll need to rest. Considering she thought she was pregnant, she’ll assume it was a miscarriage. Isn’t that exactly what Mr. Dorsey wanted?”

“The high society’s dirty laundry could fill a whole laundromat.”

The conversation ended as both seemed to recall unpleasant memories, their faces turning grim.

Meanwhile, Brielle, on the hospital bed, kept her eyes tightly shut. Her mind was a blank void. Her body ached, and she just wanted to sleep it all away.

Her phone kept ringing, incessantly buzzing, but she lacked the strength to answer it until a nurse came in, holding up her phone.

Struggling to open her eyes, Brielle could just make out the flashing name on the screen. It was Max.

But she didn’t want to see anyone right now.

“Ms. Brielle, do you want me to hang up for you?”

Brielle’s lips were cracked and parched from not having sipped water since the night before.

Her voice was hoarse as she whispered, “Please, send him a message for me. Tell him I’ve gone to stay with Aubree for a few days.”

“And, could you open my contacts and find Aubree’s name? Send her a text saying if Maxasts about me, tell him I’m with her.”

The nurse, seeing her politeness and how she struggled to maintain composure in her weakened state, felt a wave of guilt, but once you were part of this clinic, you couldn’t share its secrets with the outside world. So she did as Brielle asked, and after putting the phone down, she inquired if Brielle wanted something to eat.

“Who brought me here?” Brielle remembered Sydney being at her home before everything went black.

“Just a lady.”

It must have been Sydney, then..

Brielle closed her eyes slowly; she had no appetite. “Just give me a glucose IV. I don’t want to eat anything.” She just needed that to sustain her energy.

The nurse nodded, setting up the IV before drawing the curtains around the bed for privacy.

This was a clinic accustomed to dealing with the dirty secrets of the elite, often frequented by celebrities with unwanted pregnancies and other private matters. The privacy and luxury provided ensured Brielle could rest without concerns.

After receiving Brielle’s message, Max massaged his temples, questioning whether his harsh tone had hurt her the day before.

One of the perks of dating Max was that he never blamed the woman. In many ways, he and Brielle were alike–confident in all but matters of the heart, where they both fumbled, fearing they might hurt the other.

Yesterday, he was angry and left quickly to avoid lashing out at Brielle. He had hoped a cool–off would do them both good. He hadn’t expected her to have an even bigger temper.

Rubbing his forehead, Max dialed Andrew’s number to find out where he was.

“Tequila Sunset, having a drink. You in?”

Max decided to join him.

Andrew lounged back in the VIP booth, nudging Kenzo beside him. “Max is on his way.”

Kenzo, swirling a glass of red wine, smiled slightly. “The Dorsey family’s been a mess lately. Bet he’s got a lot on his mind.”