Twisted Ties of Love (Izabella Salotti and Brett) novel Chapter 37

Tears streamed down Izabella's face as she lifted her head, her once radiant eyes now filled with despair. Brett seemed to peer into her eyes, seeing the darkness that had consumed her heart.

Despite the pain in her stomach, Izabella had grown accustomed to it. Through tear-streaked eyes, she spoke, "Brett, my family is gone. I have repaid my obligation to you..."

"Repaid?" Brett coldly interrupted her before she could finish her sentence. His narrowed eyes emitted a chilling glare. "Izabella, the debt you owe me can never be repaid. Do not deceive yourself by placing blame on me for your father's death. Your father is gone, but your brother is still alive. If you don't want him to suffer the same fate, it would be wise to control your thoughts. You know well what I am capable of."

Since Izabella had already concluded that he was extremely cruel, he might as well show her his cruelty. Otherwise, he really wouldn't be doing justice to her words.

Brett stood in front of her. He was tall, his back against the light, and his face was particularly gloomy.

"Are you using Lucas to threaten me?"

"It's not a threat, I do anything based on my mood. If you make me happy, I'll let him off. If I'm not happy, his death will be worse than your father's."

Saying this, Brett laughed. Like a bloodthirsty demon, he slowly approached Izabella and coaxed, "Izabella, you can let go and stop caring. What's the difference between the remaining relatives and enemies now? Have they ever taken care of you until now? I can be sure that if it were you who were in danger, they would definitely not waste their time on you."

Izabella was a fool, barely taking care of herself yet worrying about others. Who would care for her if not herself? If she can't break these ties, then she deserves to be his tool.

Izabella clenched her fists, her fingertips digging into her palms. She was trying to contain the rage in her chest. She, a woman, couldn't fight or outtalk Brett.

Brett indeed saw things more clearly and spoke truthfully, but could she really ignore it?

Every time she thought about ignoring it, the words Alan had said before his death kept replaying in her mind, buzzing in her ears.

She was dying and wouldn't live more than two years. In exchange, Lucas could have decades. Looking at it from this perspective, it was worth it.

Brett carefully observed every subtle change in Izabella's demeanor. Her silence confirmed that she had reached a decision.

The words he had just spoken were genuine advice, meant to guide her. Ultimately, it was her own hesitations and uncertainties that she needed to confront. She had no one else to blame.

In this lifetime, Izabella would never be able to escape from Brett's side. Even if she attempted to fly away, she would remain tethered to him by an invisible string, akin to a kite. That string resided firmly in Brett's hands, and with a gentle tug, she would inevitably return to his side.

Brett brought the cup he held to Izabella's lips. Observing her obediently open her mouth to drink, he smiled with a sense of gratification. "Izabella, as long as you behave, everything will be fine." His patience had its limits, and he couldn't bear her constant talk of divorce.

Izabella closed her eyes.

Suddenly, with a bang, the bedroom door was pushed open. The person hadn't entered yet, but the voice came first.

"Izabella."

Brett stood by the bed, completely shielding Izabella. "She's already asleep."

Presley spoke straight to the point: "I want to take Izabella back to my house." Brett was too dangerous, and Izabella would eventually be tortured into misery. He couldn't stand by and do nothing.

Brett found it amusing and sneered, "Dr. Felton, haven't you forgotten that Izabella is my wife? What right do you have to take her away?"

"Brett, do you deserve to say these words? Izabella will divorce you!"

Such a firm attitude suggested that Izabella had spoken a lot to Presley about wanting to divorce him. The thought of Izabella being intimate with another man in places he couldn't see made Brett burn with rage.

"Is that so?" Brett chuckled, "But she just said she won't divorce me, she will listen to me obediently, and be my wife."

Brett was good at concealing his emotions, his heart full of rage but his face calm, revealing none of the vile thoughts in his heart.

Presley immediately retorted, "Impossible, Brett, haven't you hurt Izabella enough? How could she possibly want to stay with you?"

Brett's voice dripped with scorn. "Perhaps she enjoys pain," he sneered.

Presley's body tensed up. He had always known Brett treated Izabella harshly, but he never expected Brett to openly insult her in his presence.

Unable to contain his anger, Presley erupted, "You bastard!" He raised his fist, intending to charge at Brett.

Brett's gaze turned frigid as he swiftly evaded Presley's punch. Seizing Presley's collar with one hand, he forcefully flung him to the ground. Presley groaned in pain upon impact, attempting to fight back, but he was quickly overpowered by Brett, who delivered a punch to his face.

Presley couldn't beat Brett. He was just a doctor, while Brett was a former kickboxing champion. Sometimes talent was indeed troublesome.

Presley felt dizzy from the beating. He tasted blood in his mouth, and though he was severely bruised and the wounds were painful, he didn't abandon the idea of taking Izabella away.

"Could you guys fight elsewhere?" Izabella was the first to break the silence.

Brett's hand still grasped Presley's throat, his raised fist hanging in mid-air. Hearing Izabella's weak voice, he turned to look at Izabella, his expression a blend of amusement and mockery. "Why? Are you sympathizing with him?"

Brett's expression was indifferent, and it was impossible to tell whether he was angry or not, but the words he said were as harsh as always.

"Izabella, come back with me, you will die if this goes on!" Presley, being held down, couldn't help but roar.