Brett was holding Izabella's cold hand, gently applying medicine. This was the first time in his life he had been so careful with someone.
If anyone who knew him saw this scene, they'd be shocked. Who was Brett? A cocky and arrogant guy. And now, this kind of guy was actually kneeling before a woman, applying medicine for her, and this woman was the person he hated the most.
Brett didn't even realize how careful he was, and Izabella was like a lost soul. Only the caregiver noticed how these two, who were just so full of themselves, were now so harmonious. It seemed nobody could break them apart.
The internet said their relationship was broken, but it didn't seem like that was the case now.
You can't trust the rumors on the internet, after all.
Brett had never served anyone, let alone something as intricate as dressing a wound. He applied the medicine and wrapped the wound with gauze.
Fearing that Izabella would fall like she did before, Brett strapped her in the wheelchair before moving behind to push her.
The caregiver hesitated briefly before deciding to trail behind them, keeping a watchful eye until their figures vanished from sight. Then, they sought out Presley.
For Izabella, the half-hour car ride felt unbearably long. Memories flooded her mind, scenes of her arguments with Alan, their heated conflicts, and fleeting glimpses of old photographs where Alan held her tightly, wearing a warm smile.
These memories felt fragile, like soap bubbles on the verge of bursting with the slightest touch, obscuring the haunting image of Alan's bloodied face captured in the video.
Izabella curled up in the passenger seat, leaning against the car door, her head down.
She was so fragile at this moment, like a cracked crystal doll, with "handle with care" written all over her. It seemed the slightest touch could break her into pieces, never to be put together again.
Brett called Liam and learned that Alan's body had been transferred to the police station.
A police officer stood vigilantly outside, keeping watch. Izabella's gaze fixated on the firmly shut door, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. With a timid voice, she mustered the courage to inquire, "Is my father in there? How is he? Are his injuries severe?"
The police officer glanced down at Izabella, attempting to respond, but no words escaped his lips. His silence only deepened her confusion. A puzzled expression adorned her face as she wondered why he remained mute. "My father's name is Alan. Is he inside? He was supposed to attend a retrial at the court today."
That's right, Alan was going to court today for a retrial. There was enough evidence to prove his innocence, and he wouldn't be sentenced to death.
The court wouldn't sentence him to death, so how could he be so desperate as to jump off the building and commit suicide?
Her dad was just angry, blaming her for taking away the life of his lover at birth, and for taking the Salotti family, and for not caring about him for four days. That's why he made up this story to trick her.
When a person experiences intense shock and fear, the body automatically triggers a protective mechanism. The brain empties, doubting the reality of the situation, as if it's all just a hallucination. Once the person wakes up, the nightmare disappears.
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