NovelEnglishMax peered through the hospital window, his heart heavy as he observed the hive of activity in the intensive care unit. Tubes and wires ensnared Martha while doctors monitored her vitals on the array of beeping machines beside her.
Suddenly, Michael turned, his gesture cold and disdainful, pointing an accusing finger at Brielle. "As long as I draw breath, I'll never let a woman like her cross the threshold of the Dorsey household! If you insist on this, Max, don't bother coming back to the family estate!" His words were a hair's breadth away from outright disowning his son.
"Father, Brielle has no ties to the Kingstons. Do what you will with the others, but there's no need to drag her into this," Max argued.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtMichael let out a derisive chuckle. "Do you truly believe Brielle is more important than Martha that you'd disregard whether she lives or dies?" "I never said that." Seemingly exhausted by the confrontation, Michael waved his hand dismissively. "Let's just focus on Martha for now." Max remained silent, standing his ground, his hand reaching back slightly, seeking Brielle's.
Her hand was as cold as ice, devoid of warmth. She couldn't even feel the heat of Max's palm, only the numbing cold.
With his back to her, Max faced down the rest of the Dorsey clan with a dignified defiance.
Brielle's lips parted, but she felt utterly powerless. Unless she renounced her very flesh and blood, in the eyes of others, James would always be her brother, the one who had harmed Martha.
Blinking back her emotions, she pressed her lips together, saying nothing.
The hospital corridor was eerily quiet. Brielle didn't need to look to know Max had stirred discontent amongst the Dorseys by standing with her.
She could feel Victoria's gaze upon her, a mix of resentment and bitter accusation.
The fight for Martha's life continued unabated, and Max only turned to Brielle long enough to say, "Go hfor now." It made sense for him to stay. After all, it was his mother clinging to life.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmBrielle wanted to offer swords of comfort but felt it was futile under the watchful eyes of the family. She turned and walked silently out of the hospital, her mind a blank slate.
Patrick was waiting outside, hastening to open the car door for her. "Ms. Brielle, you should head back." She nodded, knowing there was little else to do.
Feeling completely drained, she was about to get into the car when Kingston's voice carried from a distance. "Brielle, you have to save your brother. If it weren't for you, he wouldn't be in the police station. Do you want his life ruined? "I'll give up the billion-dollar alimony. If something happens to him, your mother and I won't want to live either. You have to save him." Kingston had apparently been waiting for her, desperate for help, but Brielle silently got into the car without responding.
"Brielle!" "Brielle!" Her father's voice grew fainter as the car pulled away.
Patrick glanced at Brielle through the rearview mirror, noting her gaze fixed on the car roof, lost in thought. He wanted to offer scomfort, Wante but words seemed pointless with Martha's fate uncertain.
Visit our social media platform to read fascinating stories every day and connect with the community!
