Chapter 344
Chapter 344
Brett's gaze swept past Casey and landed on Izabella, who was slowly walking into his line of sight.
She wore a loose-fitting men's white shirt, the hem of which hid her thighs, creating an illusion of her wearing nothing underneath. Her long, straight legs were irresistibly attractive.
Izabella had just taken a shower and washed her hair, her wet hair loosely tied up with a disposable hair tie, hanging damply at the back of her head. A few wet strands hung down from her temples, adding a touch of allure.
Brett had imagined meeting Izabella many times, but he never thought it would be in such a heartbreaking way.
This was his long-awaited reunion with Izabella. She was in another man's room, wearing his clothes, her smooth legs on display, looking in a way he had never seen before.
At that moment, his heart felt as if it was sealed with countless thumbtacks. He was so heartbroken that he couldn't feel his heartbeat. He had difficulty breathing and was suffocating to the point where his eyes were red.
Brett's hands clenched into fists involuntarily, his knuckles turning white and trembling with the strain. The veins on the back of his hand were bulging as blood rushed to his throat. He could even taste a robust metallic flavour, as if he would spit out a mouthful of blood as soon as he opened his mouth.
What happened between Izabella and Casey in those few hours she was there? Why did she take a bath? Why was she coming out in dishevelled clothes?
Brett didn't dare to think further. He clenched his teeth. His tongue pressed hard against his teeth, and his chest heaved. He stared at Izabella with reddened eyes, looking like a forsaken dog.
He screamed Izabella's name in his heart, but when he saw her again, he couldn't utter a word, as if his soul had left his body and his eyes were dry.
Izabella had just finished her shower, her hair still wet. She spent a while looking for a hairdryer and couldn't find one. She texted Casey, but he didn't reply, so she went downstairs.
But when she did, there was no one in the kitchen. As she was wondering about it, she heard voices at the door.
Thinking it might be Casey's work colleagues and it might not look good if they saw her there, Izabella was about to sneak back upstairs when she heard a familiar voice.
"Where is Izabella? She's here. I want to see her."
The somewhat dizzy Izabella, fresh from the shower, snapped to attention at the sound of this voice.
This voice accompanied her until her death in her previous life. Even in her dreams, she would dream of it. It would ring in her ears at midnight, waking her from nightmares all night.
Izabella pressed her lips together, instinctively wanting to hide upstairs. But on second thought, why was Brett here calling her name? Had he recognized her?
How could that be?
Izabella didn't dare to act rashly. She knew Brett too well. He wouldn't give up until he achieved his goal. Since he was already outside, he would force his way in no matter what. She could hide for a while, but not for a lifetime.
It would show her guilt and arouse his suspicion if she really hid.
But fortunately, she was at Casey's house now, so she didn't have to face the danger alone.
Izabella took a deep breath and slowly walked towards the door, asking softly, "Superstar, who are you talking to?"
She was used to calling Casey "Superstar", a nickname that carried a hint of affection when it came from her.
Casey turned around and saw Izabella fresh from the shower, her face damp, her eyes blurred, looking like someone you'd want to hold and take care of.
"It's cold outside. Come in," he said. Then he answered Izabella's question, "It's a distant relative. I don't know him well."
Izabella stood there, glanced at Brett, and then obediently turned to leave.
"Izabella, don't go!" His voice was hoarse, his eyes filled with anger, and the taste of rust in his throat was getting stronger.
Izabella turned around, smiled and asked, "Sir, do we know each other?"
Brett's eyelashes trembled. If he could, he would also hope that Izabella had forgotten him, forgotten the past. So that could start over. But he knew Izabella was pretending.
She was a born actress, and pretending not to know him was too easy for her.
So his heart ached even more like a rusty blunt knife was inserted into his heart, a slight pull causing severe pain. He had to support his tottering body by holding onto the door frame.
Brett suppressed his emotions and said, "Izabella, you might have fooled everyone else but can't fool me. When you try not to back down, your gaze tends to drop; when you lie, your hand tends to
sneak behind your back. And if you don't know me, why is there so much hatred in your eyes when you look at me? The person I saw in the elevator that day was you, wasn't it?"
Izabella didn't expect him to remember that scene in the elevator a couple of weeks ago. She thought she had been lucky that time. It seemed she could never escape this man.
Izabella dropped the smile on her face, her gaze turning icy. So what if he recognized her? Did he want her to forgive him and continue their past relationship?
Casey, standing nearby, felt uneasy at their inexplicable conversation. He stood guard at the door, preventing Brett from getting close to Izabella.
Izabella sneered, glanced at Brett contemptuously, and then turned and walked away without hesitation.
Behind her, Brett suddenly croaked, "Izabella, don't you want to see Niki? Do you remember Niki? The cat that tried to save you from the fire. It lost an ear and a paw to the fire. Its tail was cut short. It's been waiting for you in J City."
He knew what Izabella cared about. As long as you were nice to her, she would let you into her heart, like Presley Felton, Amelia, Tiara, and that cat.
And he used to be on that list of people she cared about, but now he might have disappeared without a trace.
The human heart was too small. The old Izabella wanted to fit too much into hers, so she got hurt so badly.
"You can wait, but Niki can't. Cats don't live very long, and that fire took half of Niki's life."
The person who knows you best is often your enemy.
Brett had Izabella's Achilles's heel down pat, knowing exactly how to hit her where it hurt.
Originally, Izabella's game plan was to get stronger before facing Brett, but she underestimated his intuition. She never expected that a mere glance would blow her cover.
She could've waited to meet the person she wanted to see, but she forgot that some things couldn't wait like her cat, Niki.
She missed her Ragdoll cat, who tried to save her from the fire badly.
Now that Brett had recognized her, she was bound to face the same issues sooner or later. What's done in the dark will come to light.
"You're not seriously gonna use a cat as a bargaining chip, are you?" Izabella didn't turn around. Her frail silhouette stood tall, showing her unyielding spirit.
"I'm not trying to threaten you. I want to have a word with you," Brett choked out, his eyes glistening. He was pleading with Izabella.
"If you talk to me, you'll give me the cat?"
"Uh-huh, I'm not bullshitting you. I'll bring Niki back to you. He's yours, to begin with."
Compared to Brett, Izabella cared more about the cat. Now, she turned around, her icy hatred not masked. When Brett met her gaze, he felt ants biting around his eyes, the pain unbearable. He couldn't help but furrow his brow, holding back the sting and swelling in his eyes.
"Do you want to talk to him alone?" Casey asked Izabella. He wouldn't stop her if she agreed; he wouldn't let Brett cross the doorstep if she didn't.
"Uh-huh, just for a bit."
Casey's face was gloomy. From Brett's words, he could tell that the cat meant a lot to Izabella. He had no right to stop her.
"I'll leave, so you two."
"No need," Izabella interrupted him. "I'm going out with him. I'll be back in ten minutes tops."
She didn't want to mess up Casey's place. NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.
Casey stared at her for a while, finally nodding in agreement. He took a coat from the rack near the door, and draped it over Izabella's shoulders, acting nonchalant about their closeness.
"Put on the coat. It's cold outside. Got your phone?"
Izabella didn't refuse his kindness, putting on the coat and confirming, "Yeah, and the location is on."
Casey felt somewhat relieved. It was still raining outside. He handed Izabella an umbrella and removed a face mask from the drawer.
"Put on the mask so you're not recognized. Come back soon. Your hair's still wet. I'll blow-dry it for you when you're back, don't catch a cold."
"Mhm, will do," Izabella put on the mask to ensure she wouldn't be recognized before leaving.
Brett stood at the door, feeling like a total outsider. He tried to keep his cool, turning around, his silhouette trembling. This scene was too much for him. He wanted to throw away the coat on Izabella even more, to break the hands that touched her.
Brett concealed the rage in his chest, telling Liam, spacing out next to him, "Wait for me in the car."
Liam nodded and left immediately.
Izabella went outside with the umbrella. It was a bit chilly in the rainy weather, especially when the wind blew the rain onto her face.
Izabella glanced at the road sign and headed towards the river. Brett followed her in silence. Only the sound of their footsteps could be heard.
"What did you want to talk about?"
There were so many things he wanted to say to Izabella, but he couldn't utter a word when it came to it.
Brett stared at the familiar figure in front of him. He reached out his hand, it felt like he could touch her with just a gentle grasp, but he suppressed his longing.
These three years he didn't know how he got through them. He didn't sleep well one single day, and there wasn't a day he didn't miss her.
The despair of longing could corrode one's soul. He thought he would never get through this life, but destiny gave him a second chance.
Izabella was by his side again. They were so close, he could hear her breathing, feel her warmth.
He didn't find it strange that Izabella "came back from the dead." It seemed like it was meant to be.
"Have you been here all these three years, never left?"
Brett's mouth twitched in bitterness, "It's like the fire three years ago was just a nightmare. You've been alive. There was no fire. You didn't die..."
Izabella let out a cold chuckle, interrupting Brett's monologue. It was as if she heard a hilarious joke. She laughed so hard her body convulsed, her eyes turning red.
She turned sideways, touching her face, her voice husky, "Brett, looking at this face that's not mine, this intact body, the stomach that hasn't been invaded by cancer cells, can you still fool yourself that I didn't die?"
Yes, he couldn't lie to himself. Izabella did die once. In that fire, she joined forces with Nathaniel Krueger to get back at him.
He still remembered the body dug out from the ruins, Izabella's face ruined by the fire, the bracelet that fell off her burnt hand bone still on his wrist.
"Izabella, I know whatever I say is pointless, but I still want to beg for your forgiveness. I'll give you anything." Brett pleaded, his eyes full of longing. After saying this, tears trickled down his cheeks.
Izabella looked disgusted, she stepped back, widening the distance between them. For these three years, more than a thousand days and nights, Brett was no longer the high and mighty Brett.
"You want me to forgive you?" She was amazed Brett dared to say that.
Just a casual word of forgiveness can turn the page on her death?