Master of his heart (Max and Brielle) novel Chapter 1063

Memories of the past were like faded photographs to Brielle, barely worth a second glance, maybe even forgotten. But for him, they were everything.

If Isaac wasn't still around, breathing and alive, he probably would've given in to the deep sleep within this body a long time ago, willingly handing over the reins to Max. There wasn't much to hold onto—power was in his grip, yet in the end, it felt like he had nothing at all.

Yet, because little Isaac was still here, he found reasons to live, to watch how Brielle inched closer to Max. That first night she took charge, wasn't it him who pushed her to learn that? Wasn't he the one who taught her how to use a gun?

In the end, his existence seemed to be erased from her world, devoid of any memories of him. Even if she were to remember someday, the look in her eyes would probably still be one of disdain. Why? Life could be so unfair. He endured so much pain for Max, and yet, even this small semblance of life was being snatched away. Why should Max get to live?

The thought of eliminating Max was born in that very moment.

King lay in bed, those memories replaying over and over in his mind. He wanted to open his eyes, to finish what he had started, to claim Brielle once more. But another part of him watched coldly from the sidelines, desperately trying to erase his existence.

“Can't you just let her be mine?” He had asked Max this countless times, and Max's response was always brutally simple.

“Get lost.”

The room was quiet, and Brielle, curled up by the bedside, was sound asleep, oblivious to the person on the bed whose fingertips twitched, slowly opening his eyes.

Max rubbed his temples, feeling an unbearable headache. A voice in his head persisted, “If you don't like her, why not just give her to me?” He had heard this voice before, realizing something was off then. Because the voice sounded too real, sometimes accompanied by footsteps equally real, even though there was supposedly no one around.

Max glanced over to the sleeping figure by his side, his brows furrowing even more, wanting to reach out but finding the headache worsening. Taking a deep breath, he got out of bed, gently lifting Brielle onto it and covering them both with a blanket. Perhaps sensing he meant no harm, the headache vanished, momentarily silenced by someone else's quiet.

Max looked around the room, its dark style not to his liking. And Brielle, seemingly cold, snuggled closer to him, seeking warmth, burrowing into his embrace. He noticed the fatigue in her expression, pulled her closer, and breathed in the scent of her neck. A familiar, comforting fragrance.

Brielle was too tired to wake, but Max didn't sleep. Instead, he got up and left the room. He headed straight to Isaac's room and pushed the door open without hesitation. Inside, the little tyke was playing with a panther, swinging a toy around, with the beast playfully trying to catch it. Despite the panther standing taller and more formidable than the child, it behaved like a pet in the kid's hands.