Twisted Ties of Love (Izabella Salotti and Brett) novel Chapter 209

"Ah--" Izabella's voice was hoarse to the point of inaudibility, She opened her mouth, emitting fragmented sounds of fear from her throat.

Izabella looked at Brett's face, feeling as if her blood was flowing backwards. She wanted to struggle, to resist, to escape, but her body was too weak to move.

She had been lying there for 90 days. For Brett, her period of unconsciousness seemed unbearably long, but to Izabella, her terrifying ordeal seemed to have occurred only yesterday. She stared, eyes widened, tears streaming down her face. The blinding light in the room didn't even make her blink, her eyes reddened from crying.

"Help me, please don't..." Izabella's weak scream echoed in the empty hospital room, her hand gradually regaining strength, she used all her energy to slap the side of the bed. Izabella's voice sent chills down Brett's spine, he felt no warmth, and the pain in his heart deepened bit by bit.

He quickly pressed the call button on the wall, then firmly held Izabella's upper body and controlled her flailing hands. "Izabella, it's okay now, everything has passed. Don't be afraid, don't be afraid," Brett's eyes were so sore from the pain that he couldn't breathe steadily.

Seeing the man holding her, Izabella was even more frightened, her mind a blur, memories flooding into her brain like a barrage of photographs. "I don't want to, Brett, I was wrong, I shouldn't have lied to you, I don't want to replace Kaley, you should just kill me, don't send me away. I’m sorry." Izabella, who had always been stubbornly impossible to admit her wrongs, was now like a child who had done something horrible, terrified of being discarded for her mistakes.

She kept apologizing, but she didn't know what she had done wrong. She must have done something wrong, otherwise why wouldn't Brett answer her calls for help? She was tied to the bed, tormented for an hour, from cold branding, to whipping, her collarbone pierced by a sharp weapon, the end of the weapon tied to a thin chain like a dog leash around her neck, her hands full of steel needles, fingernails cracked and flesh splattered, so much blood, so much pain.

In the extreme despair, Izabella was on the verge of breaking down. Hearing her voice, Brett was completely dumbfounded. He had thought about the situation when Izabella woke up, but he had not expected her to apologize to him.

"Izabella, I won't send you away. Don't apologize to me, you didn’t do anything wrong." Brett repeated twice, his voice growing heavier each time, his heart bleeding.

Izabella's upper body was restrained by Brett, and she felt as if she was about to break. Her head was spinning, and she opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn't make a sound.

Her wounds had healed, but there were still mottled scars on her body and hands. Her fingernails, as the doctor had said, would never grow back. Her hands without fingernails looked hideously bare.