Brett's body was stiff, and it felt as though an invisible hand was gripping and tightening around his throat, making him suffocate.
Before his brain could react, his body had already rushed forward.
Izabella's frail body slumped onto the cold floor tiles, causing the surrounding people to exclaim in shock.
"Someone hit the wall! Someone's suiciding!"
Izabella was still breathing, perhaps the impact wasn't strong enough. Her forehead was just grazed, having been injured recently in an underground casino. The wound had just started to heal, and now it was broken open again, causing her to bleed.
All Izabella felt was a splitting headache, accompanied by a nauseous feeling after the heavy impact. Her vision was blurry and her ears were buzzing.
Izabella's mind filled with despair as she contemplated how she could possibly endure this torment without even fainting. In her desperation, she wished for a miraculous appearance of a knife in her hand, allowing her to end her suffering with a single, decisive act.
Blood trickled from her forehead, blurring her vision and adding to the searing pain she felt. Amidst the chaos, a ring slipped off her finger, tumbling onto the floor with a chilling gleam.
"Brett, will you be satisfied only when I'm gone?" Izabella's voice trembled as she posed the question, her vulnerability laid bare.
In that moment, the realization struck Brett with full force. Izabella's previous threats were not mere empty words; she wasn't playing games or making idle claims. The gravity of the situation became painfully clear.
He picked her up, his voice cold. "Izabella, if you die, I'll dig up your parents' graves. Lucas's hand is already ruined, right? Then I'll cut off his legs, make him incapable of taking care of himself, lying in bed cursing his heartless sister. And the Felton family, I won't spare them either! You like Presley, don't you? I'll make him experience the same despair you are!"
Brett's harsh words were like a dull knife thrust into her heart, wrenching out flesh and soul, causing a painful vibration.
Izabella no longer had the strength to resist him. She truly wanted to die. If she was dead, she wouldn't see anything. What did the living have to do with her?
The ring that had fallen onto the floor, regardless of its value, if it didn't fit from the beginning, even if it was replaced, would eventually fall off the finger.
News of Izabella and Brett's divorce spread like wildfire, even making it to the hot search list before it was finalized. Reporters were scrambling to report the news.
Bodyguards outside blocked reporters and spectators. Brett carried Izabella out. Izabella lay weakly in Brett's arms, her chest showing no signs of movement. If not for the faint sound of her breathing, one would think she was dead.
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