Twisted Ties of Love

The atmosphere between the two was quite tricky at this point. Brett was poker-faced, while Nathaniel was sporting a grin.

In contrast to Brett's dark attire, Nathaniel's outfit was totally flamboyant. The man was in a red shirt with sunglasses on, looking all high and mighty, as if he didn't give a damn about anyone.

However, as soon as he entered the place, his gaze involuntarily started searching for "Bell".

These two were quite the sight, catching everyone's attention as soon as they appeared. Their good looks were top-notch in the entertainment world, even on par with Casey's. Each of these three had their own unique charm.

Brett hadn't changed much since the last time they met, still with those narrow peach blossom eyes, a high nose bridge, and slightly pale lips pressed together.

The two were ushered in by the director and the producer with no lights around, but their presence alone lit up the entire place.

In a blink, Brett and Nathaniel spotted Izabella.

Izabella was standing with a man, his hand casually resting on her shoulder.

From where they entered, they could only see Izabella's profile. Dressed in a red uniform, her long hair was tied up in a high ponytail. Nathaniel felt a whirlwind of emotions. He hadn't seen "Bell" in a while; he could barely recognize her.

A year or so could totally change a person, to the point where he couldn't even recognize her.

All Nathaniel could do was reassure himself that this was Bell, the girl with tender eyes. She was now like "Izabella" and just because of the time they spent together, he had turned her into what she was now. Nathaniel's gaze was fixed on Izabella with his sunglasses on. He was openly staring at her, walking towards her while taking in every detail of her face.

Izabella felt an uncomfortable sensation, as if her clothes were being stripped in public. She instinctively hid behind the man to escape those intimidating gazes.

Nathaniel's gaze halted, and Brett wished he could blind him right then and there. But considering they were in public and Izabella was there, he didn't want her to see his violent side, triggering any bad memories. So, he just coldly said, “Disgusting.”

Nathaniel clicked his tongue, glancing at Brett, who was standing a couple of yards away. "President Windham, aren't you supposed to be at home, mourning your deceased wife? What brings you here? Did you take a fancy to this stand-in I arranged for you before? Does having a stand-in make you feel better?"

Even though Nathaniel's words seemed plain, each sentence felt like a jab.

No one knew Brett better than him. After all, they had been rivals for many years, and he had always harbored deep hostility toward him.

The one who understanded him the best in this world was not his friend but his enemy.

Brett's most painful memory was of the deceased Izabella. Nathaniel loved to reopen his wounds and rub salt in them.

Every time, he could see Brett's eyes turning red, but not this time.

Brett looked at Izabella with restraint; he couldn't be as reckless as Nathaniel.

One was that he was afraid it would make Izabella loathe him more. Two, he didn't want Nathaniel to discover that the real Izabella was back. So Brett casually said, "You're right, having a substitute makes it easier to cope. By the way, this substitute was the one you sent to my bed. Not only does she look like her, but even her name was changed to match. It must have taken you a lot of effort and time. I really should thank you."

Nathaniel stared at Brett and suddenly laughed. "Didn't you dislike her before? How come you've suddenly accepted her?" Brett retorted, "Didn't you dump her? Why are you here now?"

Yeah, why?

Brett's answer was, "I didn't like her before because she wasn't like Izabella. Now that I care, of course, it's because she is."

Nathaniel wouldn't admit that he

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cared about her: "I dumped her because you didn't care about the

substitute. Now I'm here, of course, because you do."

Both were having a silent

showdown, and even though they were apparently at odds, they both felt uncomfortable discussing that woman as if she were an item.

And the woman they were talking about, didn't even glance at them, as if they were air to her.

There were many people around, but the atmosphere turned icy with their arrival.

Izabella was sitting far away; she couldn't hear what they were talking about, but from their expressions, it was clear they were discussing her.

In the end, the producer broke the awkward silence.NôvelDrama.Org content rights.

"President Windham, Mr. Krueger, please have a seat over here." The producer looked here and there, sweat about to drip from his forehead. "Next, we'll be filming the scenes of the second female lead and the male lead."