Chapter 89

“Spencer, you go ahead and have a good chat with Max. I won’t intrude,” she said with a considerate tone.

Spencer nodded, ending the call and feeling all the more appreciative of Lillian’s sensibility.

Spencer looked up at the firmly shut door with a flicker of disdain in his eyes. He must be out of his mind to come all this way for a woman like that.

Brielle? She was worth this hassle?

His face darkened, and without hesitation, he turned on his heel and strode away, unaware that on the other side of the door, the workaholic ‘Uncle Max‘ had a woman sitting on his lap.

Brielle’s hands were still looped around Max’s neck, her head resting against his chest. Max’s palm gently caressed her back before he firmly grasped her chin, forcing her to look up. “You’ve been crying?”

He didn’t know the ins and outs of Brielle’s entanglement with Spencer, only that they were once engaged. As for their past affection, he couldn’t care less.

Brielle, with top honors from Beaconsfield College, a stunning face, and formidable work skills, was certainly more than a match for Spencer.

“Still hung up on him?”

Brielle almost retched at the thought. Her, liking Spencer? Impossible.

Her distress was only due to the shock of seeing someone she had known for over a decade change so drastically, as if her entire past life were a facade now cracked to reveal its true nature.

But Max’s misunderstanding wasn’t such a bad thing. After all, compared to the minor discomfort she felt toward Spencer, her emotions for Max were a tumultuous wave.

It may be better to let the misunderstanding continue. It was better than letting others know about those budding delusions.

“Yes, we were engaged for over a decade. How could I not have feelings for him?”

The pressure on her chin increased, and she winced in pain. Max’s eyes darkened, not understanding why he felt a pang of anger.

“You seduced me while still harboring feelings for him. Brielle, are your affections that cheap?”

The fleeting emotion vanished, and he lifted her in his arms, positioning her so as not to hurt her legs.

Getting angry over a caged canary, especially one with someone else in her heart, was pointless. He was to enjoy the moment and nothing more.

Max couldn’t help but repeat this mantra, yet seeing the hurt in her eyes softened him. “Find someone new to fancy. He’s not worth it.”

It was the first time anyone had told Brielle that someone else was unworthy, rather than questioning what she deserved. Her spirits lifted, and she couldn’t resist starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Uncle Max, I think we shouldn’t talk about other men at a time like this.”

Max chuckled, leaning in to capture her lips with his, “Just don’t think about him in your heart.”

“How could I? Ask any woman out there as long as she’s not blind, she’d know who to choose between you and Spencer. Besides, you’re far better in bed than he is.”

The moment the words left her lips, the warmth in the air vanished. His eyes grew cold.

Brielle knew she was pushing her luck. He had never asked how far she and Spencer had gone – had they kissed? Embraced? Slept together?

15:10 M Most people would assume that after so many years of engagement, she and Spencer must have shared a bed. She deliberately clarified this to gauge his reaction. However, his gaze was unfathomable, deep as an abyss.

The kissing resumed, along her lips, her jaw, her neck. His touch was fiercer than usual – he had always been passionate, but never quite like this, as if he wanted to shatter her.

“How much better than him?”

He paused at the peak of their passion, his question a deliberate provocation.

Brielle’s mind was hazy, fireworks exploding before her eyes. She didn’t understand what he was asking. The world seemed to swirl into an impressionist painting. She reached out to grasp him, but her hands were caught and pinned above her head.

“Just a little better, or much better?”

Tears sprang to Brielle’s eyes. She bit her lip, refusing to speak. He was being cruel, punishing her like this.

“Brielle, answer me.”