Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 1124

Somewhere else in North America.

Myles had been tied up, hands and feet, for two long days and nights in this dim, Noir-style room. His mind kept replaying the moments after he left the castle, only to be ambushed and dragged here.

No water, no food-his captors were clearly waiting for him to crack and beg for mercy. But that was never going to happen. He was the CEO of DreamTech Designs, a big shot in the oil business. Even Max was just a pawn in his game. Two silent, agonizing days passed.

Then the door creaked open, a sliver of light cutting through the darkness, revealing the silhouette of a man. Myles recognized him immediately.

"Kenzo Barnes?"

After spending so much time in Beaconsfield, Myles knew Kenzo all too well. Kenzo's eyes roamed over Myles, a smirk playing on his lips.

"No wonder they picked you as a body double. Your job, your build... Slap a mask on, and even I could be fooled. You're so deep in this, I bet you don't even know who you are anymore."

Confusion clouded Myles's eyes, momentarily overshadowed by the pain from the ropes biting into his wrists. The sharp pain brought him back to reality. He curled up in a corner, eyes locked on Kenzo. "What do you want?"

Kenzo leaned in closer, their gazes locked.

"Who are you, really?"

"I'm the King! Kenzo, you can't do this to me. I'm Max too."

Kenzo straightened up, his smile twisting cruelly.

"Still clinging to that identity, huh? No wonder you never slipped up back in Beaconsfield."

A long-term double, a hypnotist who fooled even himself, someone who had given up his own identity. He was no longer Myles; he was the King, he was Max.

Kenzo settled into a chair nearby,

and the calm in Myles's demeanor

now mirrored that of the King himself, An outsider might have been intimidated by the tension, but Kenzo simply sipped his tea the

gentle lifting of the lid a stark

contrast to the atmosphere.

"You should be thanking me. You're compromised. If I hadn't brought you here, you'd likely be dead by now." "Impossible! He'd never turn on me!"

Myles couldn't accept it. He was convinced he had perfectly replicated his master's emotions.

Kenzo's fingertips traced the rim of his cup, his skin pale even under the dim lights, a subtle tremble

betraying his calm exterior. To be a linchpin here meant sacrificing one's humanity and enduring brutal trials. Many had died, but those who survived became key players.

Myles, now slumped against the wall, smirked coldly.

"Kenzo, I know you've got a thing for Brielle. That dinner in Beaconsfield,

the way

you looked at her... It's a

shame, really. She never even gave

you a second glance."

Kenzo paused, his eyes narrowing.

"It seems you didn't genuinely want Brielle, just another step to feel closer to the King, collecting all those mementos."

Standing up, Kenzo began wiping his fingers with a handkerchief.

"To be honest," his voice faltered for a moment, "I was disgusted seeing all that."

Myles tensed, ready to retort, but Kenzo's foot came crashing down, pinning his face to the ground.

"If you were truly the King, you wouldn't be in this position. Better recognize who you are now. I ask, you answer."

Myles's cheek scraped against the cold floor, blood smearing his skin. He never imagined such a gentle-looking man could be so ruthlessly violent.