Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 1039

The girl who brought the flowers was absolutely stunning. Just a single glance from her could mesmerize anyone with the sparkle in her eyes. But King and Max had seen plenty of beautiful faces in their time, most of them fleeting like fireworks-brilliant for a moment,

then gone without a trace. So when she handed him the flowers, he barely looked at her and gave a cold, "Thanks," and that was it.

King and Max were essentially the same person, just two halves of a complex personality. Each had their role to play, and neither was easily swayed by emotions. That day at Beaconsfield College, the auditorium was buzzing with applause. The girl was pushed forward by a group of dignitaries to stand next to him for a photo op. Camera flashes converged, and all eyes were on them.

King stayed quiet, lurking in Max's mind. He was aware of what was happening but didn't feel much about it-experiences like these were rare for him. Max didn't even glance at the girl, too preoccupied with Wall Street's latest numbers. King, similarly uninterested, had his thoughts tangled in data too. But as they left the stage, he couldn't resist a quick look.

look took

the soft, lazy sunlight of a winter's day, stirring emotions even in the stark contrast of her pupils. King

complex circles of the Saudi royal family. She defied everything to be with her true love but ended in misery and disgrace. She always used to say, "Never

was born indifferent, King had seen too much and had grown numb. People always expect others, or even gods, to be selflessly devoted, but when it's their turn, they hope for understanding and empathy. King didn't want to be an untouchable deity, elevated and pure. He was flesh and blood, wanting

her reach Beaconsfield. The identity of this benefactor remained a mystery, according to their mother, the debt was impossible to repay. In Beaconsfield, with little to her

setbacks in love, their mother was no fool-she carried the shrewdness of her royal upbringing. She revealed her

mother took on a discreet role as a nanny within the Dorsey household, interacting only with Martha. The child, named

in the attic, nearly starving, it was their mother who wept outside his door, a silent guardian. Even if he had known she

When Martha realized Max's