Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 943

Tiffanie reached out for the key, but her trembling fingers hesitated and pulled back in fear before she could grasp it. Tonight, her arms were bare, her usual tattoos hidden, and her earrings were gone, leaving her looking innocent and vulnerable. This was the look the

CEO of Blue Nebula Enterprises favored, and it was clear Victoria had prepared her well.

Max slowly bent down, picked up the key, and placed it gently in her palm.

"Unlock it yourself," he said.

If she didn't take this step, she'd keep ending up in situations like this. He could save her once, but no one could save a person who didn't want to save themselves.

Tiffanie had been drifting through life aimlessly, spending money, pampering male celebrities, and returning home to face abuse. Her days were filled with emptiness.

To her, the world was meaningless. Only when she asked Max for money did she feel cared for.

The Dorsey family was cold-hearted, and she only felt a tiny bit of warmth when she was far from Max.

So, she clung to that small warmth, pushing her luck and asking for more money.

And Max indulged her. She felt a slight sense of salvation, especially after meeting Brielle.

Her first conversation with Brielle was a revelation. Brielle hit the nail on the head: Tiffanie was desperate for love.

Even knowing she was seen as a lowlife, a second-rate person, she still hoped for a man to love her.

Yet, everything she did made her unlovable. Her reputation was in ruins; her attire, way too provocative.

With no one loving her, she used it as an excuse for her lack of affection.

Because of her outrageous dress, it was normal for people to dislike her.

Because of her bad reputation, it was normal not to be liked.

It was like a self-conscious overweight girl afraid to diet because she comforted herself that her weight was the only reason she was unattractive. But if she lost the weight and was still unattractive, that would be a real blow to her self-esteem. The girl would realize that it had nothing to do with her weight; she simply wasn't attractive.

Tiffanie's mindset was similar, so she hid behind her extravagant façade telling herself it was her appearance that deprived her of love, not that she was inherently unlovable.

But the cruel truth was that she was born into filth and grew up in disgust.

When she was still naive, Victoria almost cruelly made her realize how dirty the blood running through her veins was.

With such a beginning, what was there to struggle for, to hope for?

So, no matter what Victoria did to her, she never fiercely resisted.

Victoria was her mother, and since childhood, all Tiffanie wanted was

a

for her mother to give and Ond

glance. When she fell and cried,

showing her bleeding arm to

Victoria, the response was never sympathy, but a cruel laugh.

Victoria would even tear the bleeding wounds wider, cursing her and the men who had defiled her.

From the moment a person becomes conscious, the desire for something becomes an obsession, a shameful hope that shuns the light of the sun.

Tiffanie craved her mother's love, but what she always received was a beating, and she was that beaten dog.

How tragic and twisted was this longing.

Until today, until Victoria brought her here, stripped bare and examined like merchandise, Tiffanie sadly felt that her desire hadn't faded. Was this resignation what would make Victoria happy?

Would Victoria's life, burdened by her, replace a fleeting moment of light?

So, she really didn't know when she had called Max.

She even forgot what she said on the phone.

Now, the key lay in her palm, placed there by Max, but her hand still trembled pathetically.