Twisted Ties of Love
Chapter 364

"Ms. Salotti, I'm afraid you have to personally handle this issue."

"What do you mean?" asked Izabella, her eyebrows slightly furrowed.

Liam explained, "Nikki has been holed up in Flower Garden ever since you passed away and never once ventured out. It throws a fit every time someone tries to take it out. President Windham and I are too wary to mess with it, so we need you to come over. Or how about we set a time tomorrow, and I arrange a driver to pick you up?"

Izabella's heart ached at the mention of Nikki. How was the foolish cat that tried to save her from the fire doing now? It refused to leave the villa; was it still remembering the words she said before she died, asking it to wait for her?

"No need for that; I'll go there myself. Tomorrow at 9:30 AM." Izabella hung up after saying that.

After the call, she felt her hair wet and sticky against her skin; it was uncomfortable. She then got a hairdryer from the closet.

The weather in July was the hottest of the year. Izabella was blowing her hair with the fan while using the hairdryer. The hairdryer only had a hot air setting, and it enveloped her hair in heat.

She looked at the lights outside the window, feeling uneasy, probably because she had to meet Brett Windham again tomorrow.

That night, Izabella couldn't sleep. She looked at the money in her account and planned what she would do next. First, she would find a partner to start a company, then acquire an economic company when she had a solid foundation.

Izabella hadn't signed the cancellation contract yet because the follow-up work would be troublesome.

The contract for "Blood Ties" was signed by the company. If she left now, she might not get to do the drama, and it could even lead to a lawsuit, which would delay the crew's progress.

But if she didn't leave, the company would continue to exploit her.

So the best way was to acquire the company's shares, become the largest shareholder, and not worry so much about it.

After breakfast the next day, Izabella called a cab to Flower Garden.

Three and a half years after her death, there was no change in Flower Garden; it was as if the fire happened yesterday.

She looked at the villa that had imprisoned her for nearly two years, especially the bedroom on the first floor with floor-to-ceiling windows. Although a long time had passed and the burned places have been renovated, she seemed to still see the unwashed blood stains and dust there when her gaze swept over them. Her toes involuntarily curled, feeling a sudden burn.

Physical wounds can heal, but how can those that hurt the soul heal?

Even after all these years, even though she had a new body, the pain she once suffered was an excruciating experience that would make her heartache whenever she thought of it.

She couldn't forgive Brett because the wounds she suffered in her last life were too severe, and she feared repeating the same mistakes.

After taking a deep breath, Izabella walked towards the villa. Although they were all in the same city, it was much cooler here in Flower Garden.

As Izabella walked with her head down, she felt a strange gaze and reflexively looked up. A tall figure directly entered her field of vision.

Brett was standing at the gate, wearing the white shirt Izabella liked.

As Izabella slowly approached him, her excellent vision allowed her to clearly see the reflection in his pupils.

After hesitating for a moment, Brett said, "Nothing here has changed." His eyes were full of deep affection, as if he wanted to bring up the past to evoke some beautiful memories from Izabella. In fact, this place brought some happiness to Izabella.

During the time she lost her memory, Brett pretended to be good to her, and Tiara loved her like her own daughter. Although she didn't have children, she had a cat.

Brett looked pale, his voice trembling with weakness.

At 9:30 in the morning, the golden sun shone through the shade of the trees, the leaves swaying in the wind. Izabella's hair fluttered slightly in the wind; she was wearing a nude shirt and a white knee-length skirt; she looked as if she had walked out of a painting.

Carrying her bag, Izabella said contemptuously, "This place has always been the one I hated the most; you probably forgot that I was imprisoned here by you, sitting in a wheelchair, and burned alive by the fire."

When Izabella said this, she was slightly sarcastic without any hatred.

Brett was in pain, and when he looked at Izabella again, her eyes were distant and full of wariness.

Despite the hottest time of the year, he felt cold and shivered, as if he had been thrown into an ice cellar in the dead of winter, covered with a thin layer of ice. He clenched his fists hard but couldn't feel anything.

The place he cherished was the one Izabella hated the most.

"I'm sorry." Before he could finish his sentence, he started coughing, feeling pain in his chest. His body was so cold because he hadn't slept all night and had been waiting for Izabella here since dawn. His mouth was filled with a sweet metallic taste. Brett clenched his teeth and swallowed the blood in his mouth, but his throat became itchier, and he covered his mouth to cough quietly.

Izabella didn't want to hear Brett's apology anymore. The words "I'm sorry" had become a cliché out of Brett's mouth.

"Where's Nikki?"

Brett finally stopped coughing; he covered his mouth, and his voice sounded hoarse and unpleasant: "I'll take you in."

Izabella deliberately kept a distance from him; she walked behind him, looking at Brett's back. She felt that Brett seemed to have lost weight.

Brett, three years ago, was always head-high and full of contempt when he looked at people. He was always on top, but now he seemed to have lost his backbone.

Izabella didn't have time to observe him; she was full of thoughts about Nikki, who had been waiting for her here.

She walked into the villa, looked around, but did not see the cat.

"You call it."

Izabella softly called "Nikki" in the empty house.

Her gaze swept around, finally landing on the bedroom where she was burned to death three years ago. A small figure walked out from there.

It was struggling to move, its body shaking. The rag-doll cat that once curled up in her arms while she combed its fur was now practically bald.

The cat was missing an ear and half its tail, but in Izabella's eyes, it was still the most beautiful rag-doll cat.

Nikki was standing in the doorway, looking at her timidly. It wanted to approach but didn't dare; cats have a strong sense of pride. It had always dreamed of seeing Izabella, but when it finally saw her, it was afraid to get close, fearing she would reject it for being ugly and dirty.

Izabella thought she wouldn't have much emotion in her life, but the moment she saw Nikki, she started crying.

Worried about scaring it, Izabella squatted down slowly and softly and said, "Come here, Nikki."

Nikki wobbled towards Izabella, sitting down half a meter away. It looked up at her with its little head tilted. Its voice, damaged in a fire, was unpleasant, so it didn't dare to make a sound. It just stared at Izabella without blinking.

Nikki's eyes were blue, like beautiful crystals. Its pupils dilated and shone, reflecting Izabella's image.

Although it couldn't speak, its eyes were telling Izabella that it had been waiting for her for a long time, hoping she would pet it.

Izabella reached out with trembling hands, gently stroking Nikki's head.

Nikki wanted to nudge her hand with its head, but it suddenly stopped, remembering its burned ear.

Izabella's heart ached. She bent down and carefully cradled it in her arms, dropping a kiss on its head. "Nikki, I'm here to take you home."

In that moment, the cat cried. Tears flowed from its watery eyes, dampening its fur.

It had waited three years, and finally, Izabella had come for it.

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