One taught her how to grow; the other, how to love.

Andrew was a real piece of work, not worth a second thought. But in that split second when death feels imminent, the heart has a mind of its own. The past rushes through like a slideshow of memories.

When Aubree lunged, she didn't crash into a gun barrel or meet with violence; she ended up sprawling on the carpeted floor instead. She had aimed for King, and if he hadn't stepped aside, she would have collided right into him. King stood off to the side, watching her with an impatient look. "Drama queen," he muttered under his breath.

He turned to someone nearby, giving orders, "Don't untie her ropes on the way back. She's got way too much energy."

Aubree, blindfolded, could only gauge his position by his voice. Hearing his words, she couldn't help but curse inwardly. She wanted to provoke him, to make him keep her there.

But before she could finish her thought, someone stuffed a gag into her mouth and whisked her off to another room. Now, she was tied up, blindfolded, and silenced.

Brielle was already sitting on the couch. When the noise beside her stopped, her heart sank.

"Where's Aubree?" she asked.

"She'll be shipped out tonight," came the reply.

Brielle let out a sigh of relief. She knew King wasn't exactly a good guy, but as someone who ran a casino, he was likely a man of his word.

He turned on the TV, which was still airing news about Max. The story had been on all day. Everyone wanted to interview Max, but he'd never accepted any interviews when he was at Dorsey International. He preferred staying under the radar.

The media loved a good drama, and Max's stunning counterattack and new identity reveal had turned the rest of the Dorsey family into a bunch of clowns. Antonio had been getting roasted all day.

As Brielle listened to the TV praise Max, a small smile tugged at her lips.

The room's temperature suddenly dropped, and she could feel the chill from the air conditioner. She heard a man's voice.

"If he's so amazing, why hasn't he come to rescue you yet?"

King didn't bother turning off the TV. He wasn't one to fuss over small things and kept chipping away at Brielle's defenses.

"You've been locked up here for over twenty-four hours, and there's been no sign of him. What do you think?~~~

Maybe he's in agony somew

You know the type-if he can't handle it, he'd probably hide away to spare you the sight of his misery."

Brielle stayed silent, trying to convince herself to ignore him. But it was useless; she ached to see Max, especially knowing he was suffering. She wanted to dissect their shared history, examine every bit, and treasure it.

She completely ignored the man next to her, even finding the strength to reminisce.

Why had she wanted to seduce Max in the first place? Revenge against Spencer was just a small part of it. What really mattered was that moment years ago when she first saw Max on the lecture stage. But she didn't want to admit it. She had a hidden frailty in her heart.

Don't love. Don't give. Don't get hurt.

That was the lesson she had learned from the Haywood family, so she convinced herself that seducing Max was just the perfect excuse to get back at the Dorsey clan.

She always told herself that until he showed her some affection, she would keep her feelings hidden.

But he had never let her down, not then, not ever.

For someone as emotionally barren

as she was, the fruit she had

harvested from Max was always sweet. Yet, knowing about his suffering had tinged that sweetness with a touch of bitterness. She should have been better to him,

much better.

It wasn't right to selfishly test the limits of his indulgence, especially when he was in pain.

If she could never return, if that was to be their final moment together, it would be a regret too heavy to bear.

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