Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

But there they were, just sitting in silence, both as stubborn as mules, neither willing to be the first to speak. It was like they were competing to see who could hold out the longest.

Finally, the door behind Brielle creaked open, and in walked King, fresh from a shower. He raised an eyebrow, seeing the two of them still locked in a wordless standoff. "What's going on here?"

Brielle took a deep breath and marched down the stairs.

Downstairs, King's newly hired hypnotist was waiting. After the underhanded tricks from Myles and Ramey, King had decided to bring in someone he trusted.

Back when Brielle was at the Beaconsfield orphanage, she had naturally blocked out memories of a devastating fire, her mind's way of protecting her. Myles' two hypnosis sessions had caused significant damage to her mental state, not unlike the side effects Max had suffered from certain medications.

Before breaking the news to her, King wanted to consult with a hypnotist to see if Brielle could handle the truth without it causing her undue distress.

King wasn't taking any chances when it came to Brielle.

"Sir," he began respectfully, "I've reviewed Ms. Brielle's case. She instinctively blocked out memories of the fire and later suffered severe mental trauma due to Max's disappearance, leading to hallucinations and auditory illusions. Myles' forced hypnosis has pushed her to the brink of a mental collapse. We need to heal her first before gradually introducing the truth."

The hypnotist watched Brielle closely for a while, jotting down notes before pulling King aside to a quiet corner.

King, recalling Brielle's hallucinations and auditory illusions, felt a pang of guilt and didn't say a word.

At the time, he had wanted to take her away from it all, but in hindsight, he knew he had failed to act decisively.

"If Ms. Brielle hadn't experienced hallucinations or auditory illusions, she might have been able to handle some aspects of the truth. But having gone through these, her mental state is like a crumbling building. Every new piece of information she can't currently comprehend removes a brick from its foundation. If the building collapses..." he trailed off, hesitant to meet King's gaze.

The hypnotist drew a diagram on a piece of paper, pointing to the bottom part.

"She might need to be institutionalized. A hypnotist can at most conduct one deep hypnosis session on a patient. Myles did it twice, which is beyond what Ms. Brielle's psyche can bear. For now, we should let things be, try to keep her happy, and avoid upsetting her."

King's expression darkened. "Go on."

The hypnotist, worried he hadn't

made himself clear enough, drew another diagram, this time of an iceberg, showing just the tip above the waterline.

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"Sir, the bit above the water represents the information we process during the day-what we see and hear The bulk beneath the surface is the true leader of our mental world. Where they intersect, there's a gatekeeper meant to suppress the chaos lurking beneath. Two sessions of hypnosis are akin tekilling this gatekeeper twice. After the first session, it took Ms. Brielle years to recover. Now, with the gatekeeper gone again, the recovery might take even longer, lest her suppressed subconscious wreak havoc and her mental state collapses."

King massaged his temples, fully aware of the gravity of the situation, yet feeling trapped by the need to conceal certain truths from Brielle, fearing her resentment.

"Sir, let things take their natural course. Whatever Ms. Brielle wishes to do, we should support her."

With no other options, King reluctantly agreed.

After the hypnotist left, King returned to the living room.

Brielle was already seated, her gaze shifting away coldly as he approached.

Isaac and Noir were lounging on a single sofa, with Noir occasionally twitching his ears.

King had the chefs serve dinner, coaxing Brielle and Isaac to join him at the table.

Despite her chilly demeanor, Brielle didn't neglect her hunger.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

Isaac remained silent as well.

Finally, King took Brielle's hand. "Little Canary, there's something about this child that I need to tell you the truth about."

Brielle's expression turned icy, and she set down her spoon.

Isaac, sitting beside them, furrowed his brows, his palms sweaty with tension.

King held Brielle's hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

"Actually, Isaac isn't my son. He's adopted."

Isaac's eyes widened in shock.