Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 1041

Brielle walked up to him, pulling out a handkerchief and placing it gently in front of him. "Are you hurt?" she asked softly.

Her voice was like music, making him think of flowers blooming. Strange, do flowers actually make a sound when they bloom? Maybe it was just the feeling blossoming in his heart.

When he looked up, he was immediately taken by her eyes, sparkling under the streetlight, making his heart skip a beat. She was stunning, even more so than she had been on stage at Beaconsfield College.

He suddenly remembered - she was the girl who had given him flowers. Her scent was just as unforgettable. Without realizing it, he had even remembered the perfume she wore. His heart pounded uncontrollably, and he felt a nervous excitement. "Are you hurt?" she repeated, concern evident in her voice.

He wasn't injured, but something about her ignited a need inside him. His mom's words flashed through his mind: if a girl looks at you with eyes that shine like stars, she's into you. So, maybe she liked him too.

Without thinking, he kissed her. It was like being under a spell, and he loved every second of it. Was she crying then? In that alley? He couldn't quite remember, only that he felt a strange mix of satisfaction and regret. Being with a woman felt overwhelming.

He lacked restraint and noticed her eyes were red from crying. Regret set in when he realized it might have been her first time. This wasn't how it should've happened. He took her to the villa he had bought, bathed her, and she cried in her sleep like a broken doll. He didn't care; he could afford to keep her, even if she wanted the most iconic building in the city, he could buy it for her.

He truly liked her - every whimper, every glance she gave him. He remembered stealing a glance at her on the podium that year. Max hadn't been moved, but he had been. Yet, he had ruthlessly suppressed that spark of emotion. He didn't need it.

Love was a sickness, curable with

time. Out of sight, out of mind. But the world doesn't work on logic.

Back then, King had quietly buriedet

his feelings, and so had Brielle for Max, knowing the gap between them was too wide. She was rational, like King, and they both killed that budding emotion without hesitation.

Brielle was like Max, and she was like King. So when King saw that glimmer in her eyes under the tree, it wasn't because Brielle liked him; it was because she recognized him as Max, Spencer's Uncle Max, the man she had once tried to forget. Seeing him that night brought back those buried feelings, but she fought to keep them down, only asking if he was hurt.

She showed restraint, didn't make a move, yet King was completely smitten. He thought she liked him, but she was really still drawn to Max.

That night was wild. When he woke up to her slapping him, he was confused. Why would she hit him? No one had ever dared to hit him before. He was always feared. What gave her the right?

Anger filled him, and he thought of ways to get back at her. Maybe throw her to the sharks, watch her struggle. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was hooked on her scent, her eyes, everything about her.

But then she reported him, saying he had assaulted her. His first visit to the police station, and even the royal family used it as leverage to force him into a bad oil deal. All because of her.

He couldn't let it go. A few days later, he went to her school and found out she was an exchange student from Beaconsfield, top of her class, with many male classmates asking for her contact info.

Having just tasted desire, King

wanted to keep Brielle to himself. If

he loved her, she shouldn't be

exposed to others. Her beauty deserved to be cherished in confinement, like a canary, singing only for him. He vowed to put her in the most exquisite cage and take care of her meticulously.