Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

As long as the Dorsey family stood strong, Everett was stuck by her side.

"Can I come with you, please?"

She pleaded, her eyes begging him to look back at her. But Everett was always cold towards her, his disdain barely hidden. "What for? To show everyone I'm still tied to you? Can't you make your own friends instead of trailing me like a lost puppy?"

He was beyond fed up with this woman who wouldn't give him a moment of privacy. In the early years, any time he turned her down, she'd run crying to Michael, airing her grievances.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

Once a celebrated pianist admired worldwide, Everett was now a man living at the mercy of others. Every time Victoria had an emotional meltdown, it led to his public humiliation. In Beaconsfield's social circles, he was invisible. Behind closed doors, people whispered that Everett was just a pretty face kept by Victoria, nothing more than a plaything for her desires.

No man could endure such indignity.

Everett despised Victoria and the wretched child she bore. Whenever he heard that Victoria had hit Tiffanie, a twisted sense of satisfaction filled him. And Victoria, eager to appease him, treated Tiffanie like an animal.

Sometimes, Everett couldn't suppress the darkness within, wishing he could rid himself of both mother and daughter. But he couldn't. He had to find someone.

Was the child ever born, and if so, was she still alive?

Alone and powerless, he stood no chance against the Dorsey family. Despite years of searching, his struggles were child's play to the Dorsey patriarch.

Over the past year, Everett had finally given up. He resigned himself to the fate that he could never escape the Dorsey family's clutches. So, he began to demand money from Victoria recklessly. And Victoria, the fool, complied, showering him with cash even as she lay beneath him.

Everett believed there wasn't a single sane person in the Dorsey family. He thought Max was different, but Max wasn't a true Dorsey, ironically enough. The Dorseys were a nest of vipers.

Spencer had been unfaithful despite his fiancée, Ryan's infidelities were as regular as meals, the eldest William was deviously cunning, and Michael...

A flicker of resentment crossed Everett's eyes. To be bound to someone's daughter as a mere consort-what kind of man would do that?

The Dorseys were all mad, Victoria most of all.

Everett had amassed fortunes from her, so much so that he'd lost count of the billions. Like a gambler, he indulged himself, finding solace in the neon haze of casinos, where he could feel alive amid the nocturnal illusions. In such a state, winning was impossible, and so the money dwindled to nothing.

But that didn't matter to Victoria. She wouldn't get angry; she'd simply beg for another night with him. And Everett, swallowing his disgust, would comply and receive another hefty sum.

What normal woman would tolerate

such humiliation while paying a fortune for it? With money and time, couldn't she live with dignity as a wealthy socialite? But Victoria didn't see it that way. In her mind, without Everett, she might as well be dead.

Everett's loathing for her was venomous.

"Everett, I'm sorry. I'll come with you, I really want to be with you. I want to be by your side every moment. I'll behave, promise. Tiffanie's not here today can't hit her to please you, but when she comes back, I' continue."

The sadness Everett felt was not just for himself but also for Tiffanie. But that child deserved it; she should never have been born.

"Get lost!"

With a shove, he cast Victoria aside and strode out. Victoria tried to follow but, in her haste, stumbled and fell. Everett didn't look back. He got into his car and drove away, leaving Victoria weeping alone on the cold ground.