Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 1068

"If you're mad because Max used this body to date me before, what's it gonna take to make you feel better?"

Brielle's take on things was totally different from King's.

She thought King was still hung up on his past love, unable to move forward, even if he wanted revenge against Max. He just couldn't get over that emotional hurdle. So, when they almost crossed that line a moment ago, she found herself being pushed away.

Brielle frowned, now more convinced than ever that King had been putting on an act the whole time. The real him was just too hard to pin down.

She had met a calm, calculating man in Beaconsfield before.

But the man in front of her now? Sure, he had his schemes and tactics, and a bit of impulsiveness too-traits that didn't quite fit a leader.

Or was it just because Max was in the picture, making him more emotionally unstable?

Brielle sensed Max had returned last night, so she felt she had to stick close to King, stopping him from doing anything pointless, like marrying another woman.

But his mood swings were too rapid, unpredictable, making him hard to handle.

Brielle's patience was wearing thin, her expression darkening.

"Do you know why the woman you loved left you?"

King stiffened, disbelief clear on his face as he turned to look at her.

But Brielle didn't realize her words had hit his sore spot.

"Stubborn, self-righteous, set in your ways-why would she love you?"

After her words, a metaphorical darkness engulfed Brielle, as if a mountain was pressing down on her, revealing just how terrifying his anger could be.

She took a step back but stood her ground. "And let's not forget, heart of stone. You didn't spare a single one of those folks in Saud."

The temperature around them plummeted, cold enough to make Brielle's teeth chatter.

His hand gripped her throat, and he removed his mask, revealing eyes brimming with red, staring at her intensely.

Brielle couldn't stand seeing Max's face with such an expression and instinctively turned away.

"If you're gonna marry someone else using Max's name, you might as well kill me now."

Her tone was indifferent, her heart inexplicably aching.

"I really do want to kill you now, you liar."

She hadn't remembered.

And why would she? Past memories were painful to her.

She didn't want them.

His voice was hoarse, anger barely contained, his grip tightening.

Brielle struggled to breathe, her cheeks flushing from the strain.

It seemed he was truly enraged, and she

sn't understand why this e

s engulfed her to

torment.

Ignoring her own heartache, she lowered her lashes, provoking him further.

"If it were me, I'd run away too."

A statement that cut deep.

King was in disbelief, not expecting such cold-hearted words from her beautiful lips.

Or maybe he wasn't surprised, having been through it once before.

Back then, her words were "What you can offer, I don't want. I owe you nothing."

were evne

Years later, tangled again, her words more poisonous, ruthless. Was this a skill

Dorsey International? more et

Before,

could leave her trembling, unable retort. Now, a mere sentence from her could

in disarray. Content bone

She had grown up fast.

King's breathing became erratic, his rationality snapping. He grabbed Brielle's hand, pulling her into the bedroom.

Even with sunlight streaming in, he felt a bone-chilling cold.

Avoiding her eyes, driven by fury, he tore her clothes apart.

King was at a loss, never having been taught what to do in such moments.

His mother had told him, as long as he held power, he could have anything he wanted.

But upon grasping it, he realized he couldn't cage a bird he wished to keep.

It had beautiful plumage, a melodious voice, yet refused to sing for him.

Mountains of gold and silver meant nothing to it.

He thought he had learned how to tether this bird to his side, but he was mistaken.

It struggled as if his presence was hell.

He truly didn't understand how to love someone.

Now, possessing her, he felt extreme joy and equally intense pain, spreading from his heart throughout his body.

He wished he had never met her.

Hearing her muffled cries, he stiffened, looking down at her.

Her shoulder bore a bite mark, bleeding; her lips were swollen, turned away, tears silently falling.

He reached out to wipe them away, frowning at the tear on his fingertip.

Crying for what?

Wasn't he the one who should be crying?