Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 1177

The year both my dad and 001 disappeared, I was only nineteen.

One evening at the base, I came across a face that looked just like 001's-it was Jaired.

Jaired had no idea 001 had died. He was simply confused about why his brother had stopped contacting him. Thrown into the team, he found his days endlessly dull. And then, he saw Irene.

But when Irene looked at him, her emotions burst out in a mix of tears and laughter. She joyfully asked how he could still be alive.

Jaired and Irene weren't close. He had only seen her a few times while pretending to be 001 to infiltrate the base.

One of those times was the night she became the leader.

He wasn't interested in her, despite her beauty.

That night, while pretending to be 001, the old leader mentioned picking a few guys for the lovely lady, and she had agreed, even drinking some special concoction.

So when she knelt before him, begging, Jaired was shocked. He thought she was delirious from the potion and mistook him for one of the chosen men.

The men she wanted were right outside, weren't

learned there were two 001s. And the one who rejected her wasn't the one she yearned for, marking the

cold and stoic demeanor, frantically

Jaired? And why did you open that door? Even if you had waited a few minutes for 001 to arrive, it would have

you know, this past year, I sent him on a hundred missions. He survived ninety-nine and died on the last one. If only you had told me the truth before that, it would have

was doted upon and held with high hopes by everyone. Born with everything, he never really longed for anything. Achieving success with ease in the team

exciting life he never knew existed, unaware that what he scorned was what 001 had strived

the first

lives, a

family seemed to vanish here, freeing his true nature. He thought he should have been the one left

mature, to abandon her emotions and become a ruthless leader, with only her dagger for company. He forced his twin brother to endure pain, to undertake deadly missions arranged by the one he loved, never

his ears. For the first time, Jaired felt true panic, an emotion foreign to him. Exhausted from crying, Irene released his collar, her voice

He couldn't repay the debt he owed. A simple apology was never going to

Jaired, watching as she became increasingly merciless, yet he saw in her a despair so profound it

Watching others in pain, watching them tear

ruthlessness, the thrill he found in others' torment. But as a Riddle, such emotions were disgraceful, so he had to