Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 1092

Dustin had a knack for staying unbrainwashed over the years, thanks in part to his ever-vigilant grandma who always made sure he had a hot meal on the table, and partly because of his naturally sunny disposition and constant alertness.

But Desiree from the Lynch family falling ill was no accident. Clearly, someone was trying to drive a wedge between Dustin and Desiree. After all, Desiree was a thorn in their side, messing up their plans. But the Lynch clan wasn't one to just roll over. If Desiree had died,

Raymond and Dustin would have turned over every rock until they found the culprit, potentially exposing the butler's betrayal.

So the mastermind behind it all had been clever, just leaving Desiree bedridden. Dustin, however, threw them for a loop by not falling for their brainwashing tactics. Desiree and Brielle owed their lives to him.

King had agreed to collaborate with these shadowy figures, but they were cautious, only sending Ronald as their representative all these years without revealing any core members. Now, he had Myles on the case, but the investigation was proving to be a tough nut to crack.

It wasn't that King was reluctant to join forces with the Lynch family; it was just that their household had been infiltrated by the butler, and Dustin had his own Judas to worry about. It was unclear if the Lynch family had rid themselves of all moles, and any premature alliance could tip off the enemy.

"Sir, they're too on guard. Ricardo in Beaconsfield is a top-ranked hitman, but there was someone even more dangerous before him. No one knows if it's a man or a woman, but they've taken out many over the years. We've got nothing on their base or any of the key players, I'm sorry."

Myles spoke with sincerity, his head bowed, showing no sign of the man who had once hoarded mementos of Brielle. King, resting his head on his hand, glanced at the clock on the wall and said in a calm voice, "Ricardo is a wild card. It's uncertain if he'll continue to do their bidding. Have our people in Beaconsfield keep an eye on him. If he harms anyone else, take him out."

By "anyone else," he meant Stellar Stage Entertainment. Now that Ricardo was an actor under Stellar Stage Entertainment, diligently working on set, and since Stellar Stage Entertainment was Brielle's pride and joy, King, albeit begrudgingly, didn't want to see it come to harm and upset her.

"Find the person who was ranked above Ricardo."

"I'll do my best."

Myles didn't dare meet King's gaze, remaining on his knees. Being chosen as a double was a stroke of luck for Myles. King's trust was hard to earn, his suspicion running deep Myles was the only one who had stayed by his side for so long, his identity as a double never changing. It wasn't without reason; he mimicked King so well that even he sometimes couldn't tell if he was Myles, Max, or King. Every glance, every step, was flawless. Having achieved such perfection, it was no wonder King was pleased with him.

"It's not about trying. If you can't replace them, don't bother coming back."

Myles kept his head down, not daring to argue. Only when he was sure King had no further orders did he rise, careful not to meet his gaze as he left the castle. This place was off-limits to most, except for the few who delivered meals to the young master. Myles was the exception. A sense of satisfaction washed over him as he made his way out, a smile playing on his lips.

After being escorted from the castle, he got into his car. Just as he was about to start the engine, he noticed someone in the rearview mirror. The intruder leaned forward, admiring the view of the castle through the windshield, and remarked, "Nice castle, pity it's not yours. Are you really content being someone else's lapdog?"

Myles gripped the steering wheel, his face turning cold. "Get out."

The stranger chuckled, "Your collection room was trashed, and you were furious, searching for the culprit for days. Haven't found them, have you? Ever considered that your master might already know about your little hobby?" Myles reached for the dagger beside him, attempting a backward stab, but the intruder was quicker, deflecting the blade and pinning Myles by the throat. Pinned to the seat, Myles's face flushed red with the effort to break free.

"No matter how well you mimic him, a dog is still a dog. All these years, hiding behind that mask, using his identity to wield power, have you forgotten who you truly are? I could kill you as easily as stepping on an ant. But taking out your master, that would be a real challenge. Wake up, you'll never be King."