Twisted Ties of Love
Chapter 239

She was so skinny, yet her body bore hundreds of scars of all kinds. He had imagined how difficult that hour must have been for her, but when he saw the video, he was only then truly aware of the magnitude of her suffering. His assumptions were just the tip of the iceberg.

He watched helplessly as the video showed Izabella locked in a cold cell. A man in a terrifying mask sliced fresh red wounds onto her thigh with a knife. He watched as her back was corroded by sulfuric acid, her screams echoing in the room as she was injected with five different substances, her veins popping on her forehead and neck.

She was barely holding on to life, yet the man did not spare her, piercing her fingertips with a steel needle, breaking through the gaps and tearing her nails.

She writhed in pain on the floor, pressing her bloody fingers against her phone, calling him again and again.

How desperate must Izabella have been at that time? Her hope was gradually extinguished, and in the end, she plunged into hell.

The video was intermittent, some parts edited, but it didn't hinder the viewing.

Brett's gaze never left the video, he tried to calm himself, but his breathing grew heavier, and tears unknowingly streamed down his face.

Seeing Izabella's torturous humiliation from start to end in the video, her pain and despair stabbed his heart like a knife, each breath brought pain.

Even just watching the video was unbearable for him, let alone what Izabella must have endured during that long hour.

No wonder Izabella went mad when she woke up, choosing death over life, constantly trying to commit suicide, fear striking her at the sight of a needle, feeling watched every time she saw a camera. Brett gripped his phone tightly, burying his face in the back of his hand, confronted with the reality he had refused to see.

Nathaniel, damn it!

And he himself deserved to die even more. Just like Nathaniel said, he was the one who sent Izabella to that place to be tortured, he was the real instigator.

After Izabella lost her memory, he tried to make up for it, but could he really make up for the harm he had caused her?

And today, he lashed out at Izabella over a few photos, forcing her, causing her pain, making her cry.

He was nothing but a beast!

Brett didn't know how long he had been sitting outside, his eyes blankly staring at the faint light from the upstairs window, his whole body seemed to have lost its soul, only the pain in his heart reminded him that he was still alive.

His whole body felt as if it had frozen, as if his blood had solidified.

He touched the area over his heart, the cold came from within, it wasn't the weather, no matter how thickly he was dressed, he felt cold.

Brett put down his phone, his face was numb from the cold, he could no longer feel the pain of the wounds, he staggered back into the villa and up the stairs.

Izabella's door was half-closed, the warm yellow light leaked out, the inside was quiet, he wasn't sure if Izabella had fallen asleep.

During the days he spent with Izabella, he was always on time or early for work, he never came home late.

It was the first time he had returned so late since she lost her memory.

He knew Izabella was afraid of being alone, so he always came home early to accompany her, he almost forgot that Izabella was afraid of the dark.

Brett gently pushed the door open, his gaze shifting to the bed. Izabella was lying on her side, showing only her back. The warm light on her made her look lonely and uneasy.

He walked in, seeing Izabella's body move slightly, she was obviously not asleep yet.

Brett didn't know what to say, all the words he had seemed to boil down to silence and guilt.

He walked straight to the bedside and then knelt down on one knee, this subtle movement echoed in the quiet bedroom.

Brett knelt in silence, not knowing how long he had been kneeling. His injured thigh was becoming increasingly uncomfortable due to poor blood circulation.

Izabella opened her eyes, her lips tightly pressed together. After a while, she turned around. Her half-closed eyes widened at the sight of the wounds on Brett's face.

She subconsciously bit her lip, but seemed to remember something and held her lips tightly again.

Brett's expression changed slightly, as he looked at the bruise on Izabella's neck and thought of the video on his phone, he felt himself worse than an animal. What had he done? Jealousy had blinded him. He knew Izabella wasn't that kind of person, she wouldn't have feelings for other men, but he still hurt her.

What he did, how was it any different from Nathaniel? It was even worse than Nathaniel.

"I'm sorry, I was wrong," he admitted.

Izabella's eyes were slightly red, she wiped her nose. In the hours Brett had been away, she had thought a lot, about how to manage their marriage, how to continue with Brett, but in the end, she thought most about parting ways.

She had already thought about how to propose breaking up with Brett, but when Brett kneeled and apologized to her, she couldn't say anything.

She was so useless, that's why she deserved to be hurt like this, even if she was tortured to death, this was the result of her own choices.

She liked Brett, willing to suffer for him. For her, he was the only family she had in this world, the meaning of her life.

She slowly sat up, her waist and legs aching. She was wearing a loose silk nightgown, and as she rose, the collar slid down, revealing her rounded shoulder, a large part of her chest, and the scars on it, making those wounds look even more horrifying.

Izabella was not an easy person to scar, bruises like these would fade, but the frostbite on her body and the wound on her collarbone would not.

Several months had passed, and the scars had only faded slightly.

Brett spoke with difficulty, "Bella, can you forgive me?"

Izabella turned her head, "Do you know why you were wrong?"

"I know."

"Where did you go wrong?"

Brett admitted seriously, word by word, "I should have trusted you, not misunderstood you, not forced you to do things you don't like, and not hurt you."

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