Master of his heart (Max and Brielle) novel Chapter 955

At that moment, Michael was at a complete loss for words. He had indeed taught Antonio those very lessons; the words had all sprung from his own lips. Antonio's gaze was icy, but the red wine on his fingertip seemed almost like blood. He took a sniff of the vintage, then a sip, savoring it.

"This bottle of Romanée-Conti, worth four hundred grand, is for a night worth celebrating. I've opened the good stuff just for this occasion."

After saying so, his eyes shifted to the clock on the wall. "Twenty seconds left. If you don't sign, I'll have to personally administer the poison. Not that I want you dead. I truly wish you could live to see how I'll run the Dorsey family."

Michael had been a towering figure in Beaconsfield for years, but now he felt a chilling dread. It was as if all the seeds of evil he had sown were now bearing their poisoned fruit upon him. He took the pen with a steady hand and signed his name on the document. Antonio's lips curled in satisfaction.

"Grandpa, you still have some of that medication you used on Uncle Max, right? I hope you'll take it yourself. I'll send you a supply every month, so you won't suffer any headaches. Thanks to you teaching me this craft, I know just how to arrange your golden years."

Indeed, the bitter harvest was all his to bear. Michael was silent, but not regretful. His only remorse was not having controlled Max properly, which had led to the downfall of the Dorsey family. A manic glint suddenly appeared in his eyes as he tossed the pen aside and burst into laughter. Antonio was puzzled by this display, his expression one of confusion.

But Michael straightened up, slowly shaking his head. "You've learned a fair bit, but you let your emotions get the best of you, too impulsive. The reason I valued Max was that even when I drugged him, he never held a grudge. He didn't have these cheap emotional fluctuations, which is why he always made the best business decisions. I despised how Brielle influenced him, but now I realize something: even under her influence, he was a hundred times stronger than any of you."

A fierce light flared in Antonio's eyes as he glared coldly. The one thing he couldn't stand was hearing that Max was better than him. Ever since he could remember, everyone had sung Max's praises. Max had become his shadow. No matter what he did, someone would always say, "Not quite like Max." But he was Antonio, his own person. He never wanted to be compared to anyone. Why should he live in Max's shadow?