Twisted Ties of Love (Izabella Salotti and Brett) novel Chapter 617

Nathan rummaged through his drawers in a frenzy, finally spotting the medicine tucked away beneath his nightstand. The common pills were sorted into a box - antibiotics, antacids, cold remedies, ibuprofen, headache pills, sleeping aids…

He downed an antacid and an ibuprofen, not sure whether it was the medicine kicking in or just wishful thinking, but his stomach eased up a bit. Without Belle around, eating had been reduced to ordering takeout.

He ordered from the joint with the highest ratings, but when the food arrived, it still didn't taste right. Coupled with his upset stomach, Nathan barely managed a few bites before giving up.

So, this was how it felt to be alone at home.

Nathan glanced up at the security monitor, then, as if struck by a thought, he headed upstairs to his study to boot up his computer and connect to the surveillance system. He rewound the footage to the morning two days ago, right after he left the house. Belle had been sitting quietly at the dining table, staring blankly at the surface.

He didn't fast-forward, just watched Belle on the screen.

She was just as he'd expected - spineless. He'd handed her off to another man, and she didn't even seem mad. She obediently washed the dishes, mopped the floors, even laundered the clothes he'd discarded.

Later, she went into the bedroom and shut the door. When she emerged, she was wearing different clothes, trying hard to mimic Izabella's confident, radiant demeanor. But no matter how well she feigned that smile, the sadness in her eyes gave her away.

Still, Nathan had to admit... on the screen, this was the closest Belle had come to really being Izabella. And it was the last time.

After that, Belle left. Nathan fast-forwarded the video to three in the morning, when Belle returned wearing a man's jacket – a stark contrast to how she'd left.

It felt like swallowing a cactus – it stuck in his throat, neither going down nor coming back up, each attempt to swallow sent a searing pain through him.

Whose clothes was she wearing? The question haunted him, unshakable.

Nathan found himself laughable. He could throw Belle at Brett, knowing full well a man like Brett wouldn't bother touching her. Yet the thought of any other man so much as draping a jacket over her shoulders was intolerable.

He'd handed her to Brett because he knew Brett wouldn't care to touch something Nathan had discarded. Whatever he cast aside, even if he never "used" it, he wanted it to remain untouched, pristine.

Sitting at his desk, Nathan's hand clenched into a fist. Several times he reached for the mouse to close the video, but each time he restrained himself until he saw Belle dragging a suitcase back into the bedroom.

That suitcase... Nathan had never seen it before, had no clue what was inside. She could leave behind jewelry and clothes worth millions, yet she clung to that shabby suitcase.

No matter how you dressed her up, she still reeked of poverty.

Nathan's gaze remained fixed on the man's jacket Belle wore until, suddenly, she stopped and faced one of the cameras with a vacant look in her eyes. Staring into the lens, it felt as if she was looking right at Nathan.

"Mr. Krueger, bye-bye."

Clear and distinct, the five words rang in his ears as Nathan watched, bloodshot eyes wide.

He watched her walk away from Quiet Forest Estates, disappearing into the night.

At that moment, Nathan truly felt Belle was gone.

She said "bye-bye," not "see you later." She really didn't want to see him again.

Nathan recalled the driver's message, supposedly from Belle: What's given away can't come back.

How could someone so worthless not return?

What Nathan didn't understand was that Belle's so-called worthlessness stemmed from her affection for him, her willingness to debase herself to be kind to him. But unrequited love and kindness eventually run dry.

In a moment of confusion, Nathan realized that in the three days since Belle left, his life had carried on as usual: waking up on time, eating, working, exercising, occasionally drinking... Everything seemed unchanged.

Someone had already replaced Belle; he hired a new chef and a maid, and it took three people to barely manage the work Belle used to do.

But none matched her. The chef's cooking lacked flavor, the maid's cleaning left him searching for his belongings, and his clothes were missing that hint of musk.

What's unfamiliar in time becomes familiar, but beyond these daily discomforts, Nathan found himself haunted by phantom sounds – a message notification on his phone that, upon checking, revealed no messages at all.

On the fourth day, he couldn't take it anymore. He picked up his phone and called Belle.

He didn't want her back; he just wanted to know how she did the laundry to leave that musk scent.

The call connected, but in just three seconds, an icy automated voice responded:

"I'm sorry, the number you have dialed is currently busy..."

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