Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 111

“So, does this mystery script also incorporate reflections on human nature?” In the restaurant, Brielle talked with Kenzo about the new script he was currently working on. It was rare for Brielle to engage so openly with someone of the opposite sex, and her genuine smiles and the clear light in her eyes were a testament to how much she was enjoying their conversation.

“Like, how should one live their life? Pursuing happiness or sticking to duties – which is the right course of action? Is indulgence the correct path? Should we blindly follow the truths. professed by experts? Does an individual have the right to make their own choices? Should the majority opinion dictate the political narrative? Your previous scripts touched on these themes, but my favorite has to be the one from last year.”

She had watched that drama series the previous year, not merely to flatter him, but because she had thoroughly researched and admired it.

Kenzo looked up, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his mug, “I liked that script too. I didn’t even want to adapt it into a TV show at first; I felt like no actor could embody the protagonists the way I envisioned them. Luckily, the casting turned out to be a success in the end.”

“In my eyes, you are a true artist,” Brielle remarked, echoing the conclusion she had reached back in the library.

Kenzo, hailed as a genius scriptwriter, had many sought–after scripts under his belt, each selling for millions. During interviews, he had even confessed that his adapted TV scripts were not his most satisfying works; the ones he valued most had been destroyed by his own hands.

He spoke these words with a nonchalant smile to the cameras, having created a world, seen its beauty, and then, with a touch of pride and fulfillment, razed it to the ground.

Even if Kenzo hadn’t been born into the prestigious Barnes family, his character would likely be the same – like a romantic outlaw or the grandeur of ruins.

though they might be impoverished, mundane, or outdated, they were ideals

Brielle mused, stirring her coffee as her eyelashes fluttered

moment, her brow furrowed upon seeing Spencer’s name flashing across the screen, and without hesitation, she

immediately. He’s like a lion in fury, if Brielle were before him

minute earlier, his drinking buddies had tagged him in a group

face turned crimson as he kicked over the coffee table at home. He couldn’t fathom how this woman, whom he had

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Chapter 111

amiable demeanor,

presumptuous woman who, in his

bill only to be informed that it

over one arm, “I’ve got a membership card here, gets me a 20% discount. No sense in not

face. Mr. Kenzo couldn’t possibly care about saving a few dollars on a meal. It was just

the money, minus the discount,” she offered.