Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 1166

Jaired stood still, his face a mask of calm. It was like he had no idea what those ten years meant. Or maybe he just didn't want to think about it. He just stood there, not even looking for a place to sit, as if he could stand there forever. Irene, a cigarette hanging from her fingers, followed Kenzo from a short distance until they reached the door to the room where Brielle was being held. Kenzo reached out to touch the door but then pulled back, looking hesitant. Irene stepped up from behind him and pushed the door open.

"Darling, is this the woman you fancy?"

Kenzo had never said anything like that to Brielle. He'd lost the chance to admit his feelings long ago. The only thing he'd ever told her was, "Thank you for the candy apple." Those words meant way more than just liking her.

Brielle, who had been trying to rest, was startled by the door opening and a strange woman's voice. The woman's tone was lazy and indifferent, like she didn't care about anything.

Brielle heard footsteps coming closer and stopping right next to her. Then someone lifted her chin, turning her face from side to side.

"She's pretty. I've seen her before," Irene said, smiling as she let go of Brielle's chin. "Honey, you can go ahead. I'll give you ten minutes to think it over, just like my father gave me." Irene pulled out a gun and laid a thin throwing knife next to it. "Do you want to use the gun or the knife?"

Brielle stayed silent. She couldn't see the woman in front of her and knew that saying anything could make things worse.

Irene stepped back and left the weapons on the floor for Kenzo to choose. Kenzo walked over, leaning down to look at Brielle's face.

"Irene, step back a bit," he said.

"Why? Afraid I'll get blood on me?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied.

Irene laughed and walked to the door, crossing her arms. "Darling, you've got ten minutes. Don't let me down."

Kenzo picked up the thin knife. He'd noticed how much Irene treasured it. She only took it off the night they were together; otherwise, it was always on her wrist. She said it was made by the best craftsman in Beaconsfield, and she probably wasn't lying. The knife was as thin as a wing and incredibly flexible.

Kenzo held it carefully, the blade almost cutting his palm. Irene narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Be careful, darling. That knife is very sharp."

Kenzo didn't reply. He focused on Brielle's face, his fingertips gently touching her chin and cheek. Brielle felt violated and tried to turn her head, but a sudden force on her chin made her wince in pain. "Brielle," he called out.

Brielle pressed her lips together, but

the sharp pain made her mouth

open. She felt something cold on her lips. From the doorway, Irene watched as Kenzo pushed the knife into Brielle's mouth without hesitation. Then, a piece of flesh

ΛΟ

was cut away.

Brielle passed out, her mouth full of blood. Kenzo, holding the knife, let her go and slowly stood up. He didn't look at the piece of flesh on the ground but walked toward the door.

"That's enough for today," he said, his tone indifferent as he handed the bloodied blade back to Irene. "Sorry for the mess."

Irene glanced at the blood on the knife, a slight frown on her face. "It's okay. I'm willing to give you time. Once you've calmed down, we can try again."

She held the knife and left even

before Kenzo. The room was filled

with the strong smell of blood. Kenzo didn't look back at the unconscious Brielle. He closed the door behind him, and someone

locked it as he walked away.