Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)

Dustin watched the scene unfold, looking like he had no intention of calling for a doctor.

"Michael, can you still talk? What's the secret of the estate?"

Michael sat there, the taste of blood filling his mouth. But instead of wincing, he started to laugh.

All those plans, all for nothing.

All those meticulous strategies, wasted.

Dustin couldn't quite understand Michael's state of mind. His brow furrowed as he listened to Michael's raspy voice, "The estate is an heirloom from the older generation. There's a basement filled with fuel barrels, one after another. If ignited, the whole place would go up in flames-a trap set by our ancestors, a dead end. Ashton played the fool his whole life, but he was smart once when he chose that spot. I told him, the switch to ignite the fire was hidden in the backyard, disguised as a flint stone. It's capable of setting the estate ablaze. Anyone trapped inside wouldn't stand a chance, not even by divine intervention. If Ashton used this to threaten Max, Max would spare the Dorsey family. Ashton's a brooding guy, loves his glory but fears death above all. I never thought he'd go this far."

Michael slowly shut his eyes, resigned to whatever came next.

Life and death, power; it all seemed like a joke.

He had personally ruined the Dorsey family. He was the sinner of the ages.

Again, he laughed.

"The cliff behind the garden is bottomless, but our ancestors kept a terrace not too far from the edge. If one jumped from the cliff, landing on the terrace wouldn't be fatal. The plan was to use themselves as bait, lure the enemy to the estate, ignite the fuel, then escape by jumping off the cliff. That's the secret the elder Dorseys kept, because the patriarch before me made many enemies plundering resources. Cough, cough, cough."

Michael felt exhaustion take over, his chest ached, and his head throbbed.

The best decision he ever made was appointing Max, naturally insensitive to emotions, as the heir to Dorsey International.

His greatest regret was not trusting Max.

A genius, a legend worshipped on Wall Street-how could his judgment be flawed?

From the moment he decided to give Brielle a legitimate status, he probably knew this day might come.

Tears began to flow. The mistake, it seemed, was his own.

A pitiable sight.

Utterly pitiable.

Dustin had no interest in Michael's final monologue. He got up to leave but heard Michael add, "Ashton wouldn't have taken this step if he wasn't driven to desperation. He fears death too much, blinded by his hunger for power, cherishing his life above all else."

So why would Antonio go to such lengths to torch the villa?

What had spurred him on, nobody knew.

After all, besides Brielle and Aubree, there were no survivors.

Leaving the old house, Dustin felt heavy-hearted.

He'd learned the truth, but what could he do with it?

Plead with the grim reaper to make an exception and bring Max back from the afterlife? Clearly, that was impossible.

He rubbed his temples, torn between grief and regret, nearly driven mad by these emotions. Yet he still had to face Brielle at the hospital.

Brielle hadn't woken up. The doctors had promised she'd come around by afternoon, but there wasn't the

swnovel?

slightest sign of her waking up.

"Ms. Brielle doesn't want to wake up. Someone needs to stay by her

bedside and talk to her. She's probably caught up in a beautiful dream, and deep down she knows reality is harsh, so she's hiding from it all in her dreams."

That was the doctor's explanation, and it seemed to be the truth.