Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 1085

As the woman glanced at Alivia through the rearview mirror, she commented, "Nice look you've got there. You sure he'll go for it?"

Alivia, terrified, clung to Kenzo's hand, her voice trembling on the edge of tears.

"Bro, I don't wanna go. Please, don't make me go there."

She didn't know exactly what that place was, but the woman's tone told her it wasn't anywhere good. And Kenzo's mother-how old must she have been? That such a woman could still fall victim to such horrors.

Raped, then killed, and all of it mentioned so casually in front of Kenzo, as if human beings were no more than cattle to them. She was determined not to end up in a place like that!

Kenzo remained silent, only instructing softly, "Pull over."

The woman in the front raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on the driver's wrist. Obediently, the driver stopped the car. Kenzo, with his eyes closed, swallowed hard.

"If you're having second thoughts, you can leave. But don't forget, this is your only shot at getting back at Brielle."

Alivia, sitting by his side, could only see his profile. It was undeniable, Kenzo's face was perfection itself. She used to think of him as the embodiment of gentleness, but now, that gentleness had turned into a blade, ready to slice through flesh and bone. Alivia had already opened the car door, one foot already stepping out, but his words froze her in place. If she left, where could she possibly go? Who else would reach out a helping hand to her?

The same terror she felt on the Ferris wheel came rushing back. If she survived, she was determined to get her revenge on Brielle, no matter the cost. She couldn't bear to see Brielle so content! She was ready to go all out, leaving an indelible scar in Max's heart, even if it meant her death.

The car was silent, everyone waiting for her decision. Alivia's eyelashes quivered as she withdrew her foot and closed the door.

The woman in the front laughed lightly, lighting up a cigarette, taking

a drag, and then passing it toet

Kenzo took it, noticing the bright lipstick mark on it. He held it between his fingers, slightly tilting his head back as he placed the cigarette between his lips. The

woman smiled, her lips curving up.

"Kenzo, do you even realize what you're giving up?"

What did getting into this car mean giving up? Humanity itself. It was like making a deal with the devil, pawning off one's very soul. She had provoked him on purpose, eager to see how he'd react upon learning about his mother's tragic fate. He was unmoved, as if he had truly pawned off his soul.

The woman continued to dismantle a gun, her expression sharp.

"You've passed the test. Congratulations."

Kenzo kept the cigarette between his lips, silent, his gaze fixed on the dark ceiling of the car.

"You're far more ambitious than your father ever was."

What the organization truly desired wasn't obedient dogs but madmen willing to rewrite the rules. The first to raise their voice either faced the bullet or earned admiration. Those willing to be dogs had their secrets held tight by the organization, like Kenzo, who out of love for his mother, who had once saved his life, was willing to do anything to keep her alive.

As for the likes of the Professor, they were brainwashed, incapable of rebellion. Such individuals were easy to control, but their potential within the organization was limited. Kenzo had seen through this, daring to point a gun at his own father.

The core of the organization craved individuals who stood out, who discarded everything for their cause. Those blackmailed into servitude could never touch the heart of the organization. And those, like the Professor, who became mere followers, could only aspire to minor roles. Only someone like Kenzo, who abandoned his humanity and all emotions, could be truly invincible. Those unable to let go could never truly become anything significant.

Alivia, curled up on the side,

remained silent. She keenly noticed that although Kenzo seemed to be staring at the ceiling, his eyelashes were drooping. There was a hint of crimson at the corners of his eyes, the smoke from the cigarette blurring his vision. In that haze, Alivia sensed his heartache, deeply hidden beneath layers of ferocity. His

madness, his thirst for revenge, was deeper than anyone could imagine.