Twisted Ties of Love

The only person in his sight was Izabella, and he seemed to disregard Casey standing on the side. The two of them were in the same picture, and even he himself thought they were a good match.

He wanted to zoom in on the photo to look at Izabella in detail, but as he lifted his hand, a drop of blood fell onto the phone screen, blocking Izabella's face.

With the faint light from his phone screen, he looked at his hand. Pieces of glass were lodged in his flesh and blood, it was a sight that made one wince. There was blood all over his hand; it didn't hurt at first, but now that he saw it, the pain hit him.

Brett had never understood love. He disdained the idea that one could fall for love, deteriorate for love, and endure pain for it.

Looking at the blood on his palm, he understood that feeling. It was like when the room plunged into darkness, he fell into a pile of broken glass, his hands and feet aching. But his first reaction wasn't to examine his injuries, but to pick up his phone, because the message could have been from Izabella.

For a mere "possibility", he was willing to be covered in cuts and bruises.

The photograph was sent by Izabella to Brett, and she added some words. - "I won the bet."

Her underlying meaning was to ask Brett to let the Dempsey family go.

Brett, trembling, stood up and turned on the light. The chaos of the room came into his sight; blood was everywhere. Apart from his hand hurting, his knee was also throbbing with pain.

He lowered his head to look at his legs, his knee was stained with blood, and there were pieces of glass stuck to his pants. So this was what it felt like to kneel on broken glass. The pain and wounds Izabella had suffered were because of him, and he knew that clearly.

Brett was unwilling in his heart, and he still harbored unrealistic fantasies. He always fantasized, an eye for an eye, if he experienced all the pain Izabella had suffered, would she come back to him? Now, medical technology is advanced, even stomach cancer can be treated properly with medicine; perhaps lung cancer could be treated too. His condition wasn't as serious as the doctor said. He was just coughing; at most coughing up some blood, it wouldn't kill him.

He was always repenting, but before he had the chance to treat Izabella well, she had chosen someone else and didn't give him any chance.

In fact, being married wasn't a big deal, people could come back from the dead, and marriages could end in divorce, maybe, after he died, God would give him a chance to return, just like Izabella. People always liked to hold onto unrealistic fantasies, only to regret in the end.

After waiting for Brett's reply for a long time and not receiving it, Izabella hesitated and called him.

Brett was holding his phone blankly, the case was stained with blood, and before he could react, he heard Izabella's voice.

"Brett, I'm married now."

The villa was very quiet; the sudden appearance of Izabella's voice seemed like an illusion.

Brett lowered his head and stared at

the phone in his hand, realizing that he had unconsciously answered the call. He was silent, and Izabella thought he hadn't heard her and

repeated herself,

"I'm married."

"I heard you," Brett's hoarse voice came from the phone; it was hard to discern his emotions.

Izabella said, "The bet you set, I won. It proves that Casey is not like you; he won't abandon me for his own gain."

Brett's voice was a bit heavy, "What's

the rush? I haven't done anything

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yet. Besides, this bet is not only about Casey, but also his family. Izabella, let me ask you, is a marriage without the blessing of family happy? Have you ever thought about the consequence of the Dempsey family going bankrupt and being jailed? Can you afford that price? Will you feel guilty every day living with Casey because of this?"

"Enough!" Izabella interrupted his threat, "Brett, that bullet should have been aimed at your forehead!"

There was so much Izabella didn't

understand. He said he was doing it for her good, but he kept pushing her into a corner. He said he wanted her forgiveness, and she had said in the hospital that she had let go of the past. They should live happily apart, wasn't that better?

Brett staggered to the window, opened it, and the cold wind outside blew in, sounding like someone was crying.

His heart was colder than his body.

He said, "Let's meet some other time, or you can set a place; I'll wait for you."

Izabella said, "What can we talk about in person? Or do you want to go back to the old days, chain me up and lock me in the house like a dog?"

"I was wrong back then. I won't do that ever again."

"Don't be in such a hurry to say that. When has your word ever been reliable, President Windham?" Izabella sneered, "People have to learn from their experiences."

Brett could imagine Izabella's expression. She was probably clenching her teeth, holding back her anger, if he was in front of her, he might have been slapped. Izabella had a good temper. Brett once said she was like a rabbit; even when she got angry, she wasn't threatening.

Izabella's personality wasn't as dark as his. Her softness was innate, like cotton, even when a knife fell on it, there wouldn't be any sound.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.