Twisted Ties of Love (Izabella Salotti and Brett) novel Chapter 597

In the scorching heat of Jefferson City's summer, the mercury soared close to a hundred degrees, making the asphalt shimmer with waves of heat.

The city bus was a steamy cauldron of body odor, sweltering passengers crammed together like sardines in a can. It was the peak of rush hour, and with traffic crawling at a snail's pace, the bus inched forward with the sluggish determination of an ant.

Bell, wedged in the middle, gripped the overhead rail with sweaty palms. Since noon, the oppressive heat had been taking a toll on her, and now, packed inside the bus, she felt like she was on the verge of heatstroke, her chest tight and head spinning. She longed for a breath of fresh air, but the air was thick with the stench of the crowd, and her body swayed involuntarily, seeking a spot to squat down and find relief, though even a single step was a struggle in the cramped space.

With swollen eyes, Bell gazed out of the window, silently pleading for the bus to speed up. Eventually, she could stand it no longer and disembarked halfway to her destination, facing a twenty-minute walk home.

Her legs ached as she squatted by the roadside, purchasing a bottle of ice-cold water. After gulping down half of it, she pressed the remainder against her forehead for a makeshift cold compress, her stomach churning with discomfort.

The sudden vibration of her phone in her bag snapped Bell back to reality. With a sense of urgency, she fished it out to see a message from Nathaniel, brief and to the point, summoning her home.

Nathaniel wasn't one for phone calls. To him, expressing any tone or superfluous emotion was a waste. And Bell, meek and easily pushed around, never got angry—or more precisely, was exceptionally tolerant. Even now, dizzy as she was, Nathaniel's text spurred her to get up and run back.

Gasping for air as she climbed the stairs, her throat itched from the exertion, each breath threatening to trigger a gag reflex.

Leaning against the elevator wall, she ascended to her floor, her face slick with perspiration and her steps unsteady with fatigue.

Standing before her apartment door, Bell took a couple of deep breaths to compose herself, smoothing her expression before unlocking the door.

It was seven in the evening, and the sky of Jefferson City had yet to darken completely, but upon entering, the apartment was shrouded in gloom, curtains drawn tightly, the silence within unnerving.

Were it not for Nathaniel's text, Bell might have thought she was returning to an empty home.

The chilling quiet of the apartment pressed down on her, and she involuntarily held her breath, treading lightly into the living room.

The sight of a figure on the sofa turned her anxiety into relief, and the fatigue that clung to her seemed to evaporate.

The room was dark, curtains blocking any outside light, revealing only the silhouette of a person and the warm glow of a cigarette's ember.

The scent of tobacco reached Bell, and she flicked on the lights, illuminating Nathaniel's face and catching his cold, fierce gaze—the kind that always made her heart race with fear.

"Mr. Krueger, you're here?" Her voice trembled, betraying her nervousness. "Are you hungry? I'll start on dinner right away..."

Nathaniel watched her enter, a silent smirk playing on his lips as he let the cigarette smoke rise slowly, the ash falling to the ground with a fiery glow.

Bell had always struggled to read Nathaniel's thoughts, but his silence and the way he extinguished his cigarette quickened her pulse, a voice inside her screaming to get away, or at least to avoid confronting him face-to-face.

With her head bowed and lips pursed, Bell quickly made her way to the kitchen, grabbing an apron off the wall to don it.

Just as she was about to open the refrigerator, she was suddenly encircled from behind and, with no time to scream, was sent crashing to the floor with a painful "thud," as if her bones had been knocked out of place.

Bell gasped in pain, her eyes welling with unshed tears, not understanding what she had done wrong. She only dared to look up at Nathaniel timidly, too frightened to make a sound.

Nathaniel was known for his temper, and she had been warned about it when her agent had arranged for her to stay with him. After six months in his residence, she had indeed witnessed his unpredictable moods.

"Where have you been, smelling like a dumpster?" Nathaniel loomed over her, his gaze filled with disgust.

He wasn't particularly fastidious, but he couldn't stand seeing her come back filthy from wherever she had been.

"I... I was at work..." Bell stammered out.

Not only had she not used it, she'd gone out there, hustling tables at a diner, saving every penny she earned to deposit back onto that card, determined to pay off her debt as soon as possible.

Hearing this, a sardonic smile spread across Nate's face.

He had invested so much in her, basically sponsoring her lifestyle, and she still believed it was about affection?

Affection... Nate remembered, he did tell Bella he liked her once. But that 'like' wasn't the kind you have for a person; to be brutally honest, it was more like the amusement one gets from a pastime.

And Bella, she was just the type for that kind of "like." Toss her a bone, and she'd act like you've done her the grandest favor, eternally grateful.

Bella couldn't meet Nate's gaze, couldn't decipher his look, but it felt like he was looking at trash. She had seen that kind of demeaning look before, back in the hills where she grew up, so she could tell.

Was Nate starting to dislike her? She didn't want him to.

People with low self-esteem always blame themselves first when things go wrong. Even if they can't find a fault, they assume it's there, bow their heads, and apologize meekly, "I'm sorry."

When she apologized, Nate felt half of his irritation fade away. He squatted down, lifted Bella's chin, and stared into her eyes that were so reminiscent of Isabella's.

They had an innocence about them, like a fawn that's just been born, timid and insecure. Her dark eyes were clearer than water, reflecting his own image.

Bella and Isabella bore a striking resemblance to each other. With just a little effort, Bella could pass for seventy percent of Isabella's look, though their auras were worlds apart.