Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 670

Chapter 670

He'd leave marks on Aubree too, but they were the kind of marks you suck into the skin-they'd fade in a few days, not like these bloody ones that screamed of a wound. He had never torn into her with such fury. What was it about the pretty boy that she liked so much?

Aubree huddled up, her skin broke out in goosebumps, and her tears soaked her clothes. She wanted to slap him, but her hand felt like it was made of lead:

The jerk had built her a fairy tale, only to shatter it mercilessly. Her sincerity was a joke to be trampled on. Her affection became trash, the kind you step on and complain about it being underfoot.

She couldn't even muster the strength to push him away. She was no match for Andrew when it came to brute force. Her teeth chattered as she felt an arm wrap tightly around her waist and press her down onto the couch.

Andrew's head was buried in the crook of her neck, his voice hoarse. "What happened to you?"

Aubree's pupils shrank slightly, her emotions a mix of laughter and tears. It was always like this. A slap followed by some sweet words, and she'd been domesticated to comply.

She felt sick to her heart, yet her body couldn't resist Andrew. She wanted him to treat her like before, to hold her tight and ravish her with mad desire.

Pathetic.

This body was tamed and no longer her own. She was utterly powerless before him.

Why was she the only one stuck in hell? Why were Andrew and Tessa still doing fine, planning a wedding, and stepping over her to pluck the fruits of love? It just wasn't fair.

Andrew's kisses trailed down her neck, his breathing growing ragged, his voice tight with clenched teeth, "Break up with that pretty boy!" Then, come back to him.

0 = 40 AŬ AE IS

A pang shot through Aubree's heart, and she gave a wan smile. "Are you sick or something?"

Andrew felt a dry, stabbing sensation spreading from his heart to his limbs. "Aubree, I'm not disgusted by you. You should be grateful."

He let go of her and patted her face gently. "Does he know you've been in my bed for

years?"

Aubree slowly got up from the couch, feeling a flicker of energy return. "I've been with you for so long, and that makes me the one who's tainted, right?"

11.40

You say that one more time?!" Andrew's eyes fared with anger again. You think I'm dirty?

Aubree was his first, and he had indeed relished the experience of unlocking doors to new worlds. But marrying Tessa was non-negotiable. They both knew that from the start. He couldn't fathom Aubree's sudden change of heart.

Tve only ever been with you. How many have you been with? What right do you have to

call me dirty

Aubree was buttoning up her shirt, fighting the urge to cry. "Four."

Andrew thought he had misheard, his eyelashes fluttering in disbelief.

Aubree just looked straight at him, a light laugh escaping her. "Four. I am dirty, so don't touch me again."

Andrew stood up abruptly and slapped her across the face. The blow turned Aubree's cheek aside. It didn't hurt. It seemed no matter what he did to her, she couldn't feel the pain anymore, just a dead numbness

"Slut!" That was all Andrew left her with before he stormed out.

Aubree sat in the empty lounge, the silence enveloping her, punctuated only by her breathing and the "drip-drop" of tears hitting the floor.

Outside the lounge, Andrew punched a wall, his breathing erratic with fury. Blood coated his knuckles, reopening old wounds.

Passersby watched fearfully, but no one dared to stop and ask what was wrong.

Andrew rubbed his reddened eyes, feeling their sting one moment and his nose tingle the

next

Everything was off.

Returning to the lounge, he found Jaired still holding onto Tessa, who sat on the couch, crying silently.

Jaired, seeing Andrew return, felt like his head was about to explode. "You're finally back, man. She's been crying so much, she's nearly flooded the place."