Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 972

King stood gazing out at the shadowy mountains, his breath mingling with the chill at the cliff's edge. A slight smirk played on his lips. "Think I've got a shot?"

"Absolutely, sir. While Max becoming the president of Dream Tech Designs was a surprise, I'm confident that you have far stronger connections. I trust you completely."

The man chuckled softly as the words left Antonio's mouth.

Antonio couldn't figure out what was so amusing, tilting his head in confusion. The garden around them was in full bloom, caught in that vibrant transition between spring and summer. King plucked a flower, gently rolling it between his fingers before crushing it slowly.

"Did the old man tell you anything before you came here?"

A shiver ran through Antonio, and he lowered his gaze. "He did. Grandfather's getting old and doesn't believe you have such capabilities, sir."

Antonio kept back the secret Michael had confided in him, the one about this house.

"The old man wasn't wrong. There's a reason he was the previous heir to the Dorsey estate he wasn't senile enough to not know friend from foe."

Antonio didn't grasp the meaning of his words, but in the next instant, the barrel of a gun was staring him down.

He stepped back, disbelief etched on his face. "Sir, what are you—"

King continued to chuckle, pulling the trigger without hesitation.

Antonio stumbled backward, plummeting, but his will to live kicked in, and his hand snapped out, grasping the edge of the cliff.

out. Clutching the precipice, he looked up in

a cry, like someone abandoned by

who turned the tables on those who used him, should be bewildered. Your role, the sword, was quite useful-far better than me seeking my own revenge on the Dorsey family.

strength, even his

don't understand,

the one discarded? Even after dragging Max through the mire, how could Max still find

everything-if only Max had never

man who had pulled him from the sludge was now turning against

aimed the gun at his

seat for a day. But you missed the undertone of my words. Now

desperately to the edge, refusing to let go, filled with

so much. I always thought of you as my

a mocking laugh, "Do you want to see what your god

The tone was biting.

from Antonio's face as

mask

him, bitterness.

radiating from him. Contentve

as the mask came off and he saw the

madman, releasing his grip on the

his laughter grew

raised an eyebrow, considering a final

and returned to where Brielle