Twisted Ties of Love

Izabella only wanted to get things over. Just as Brett had insisted, slipping into a dress wasn't going to kill her.

Might as well play the part of a stand-in model today, and fulfill Brett's last whimsical request.

Of course, Izabella wasn't naive enough to follow his every word. Her phone was hooked up to her laptop to transfer a heap of large files. It was going to take at least an hour to finish. The stylist brought in the wedding gown. Izabella didn't bother examining it closely; she just caught a glimpse of the hem sparkling with what looked like tiny stars.

The dress was tailored to her exact measurements. It took less than five minutes for Izabella to slip into it before the stylist came in to adjust the train and have her sit for makeup. Izabella's skin was flawless, making the makeup artist's job a breeze. With a simple touch of the brush, she was transformed into a vision; her long hair was pinned up behind her. Looking at her reflection, Izabella felt her mind was racing with strategy. She didn't trust Brett to not have a backup plan. Apart from a few laborers, the only other person around him recently was the doctor. Brett had mentioned firing Liam, but could that have been a ruse to send Liam off on some other errand?

As to the theme park accident and the car malfunction-if Brett was involved in them, Liam was likely the one carrying out the deeds. And only Liam knew Brett's email password.

"Ms. Salotti, you are absolutely stunning. You must be the most beautiful bride I've ever seen," the stylist suddenly chimed in, which interrupted her thoughts.

Izabella replied coolly, "I'm not the bride."

Noticing Bella's displeasure, the stylist quickly zipped her lips.

With the file transfer completed, Izabella used the excuse of a bathroom break to grab her phone. Hesitantly, she finally called Casey, but it went straight to voicemail. No one in the Dempsey clan answered either.

Could something have happened?

Her eyelid twitched again. Izabella wasn't superstitious-old wives' tales like left for wealth, right for calamity were just psychological. But now, she could hardly shake off an unsettling sense of panic. Once, Izabella thought she could just wait for death by Brett's side, but now, with the Windham Group's secrets on her phone and Brett's promise of safe departure tomorrow, she wasn't about to sit back and do nothing if he reneged.

She reached out to Toby. Time was scarce, so she went straight to the point-get more protection for the Dempsey family, and find Liam.

"Ms. Salotti, President Windham is requesting your presence," someone called out.

"Got it," Bella responded, and pocketed her phone.

The train was too long and the heels were uncomfortable for her. Izabella kicked off the stilettos and padded barefoot across the floor.

As she approached the top of the staircase, she gripped the banister and looked down at Brett, who was impeccably dressed in a sharp black suit. His eyes, deep and red-rimmed, were fixed on her, as if he existed solely for this moment.

Their eyes met briefly before Izabella looked away, and her grip tightened imperceptibly. She descended gracefully, the gown's diamonds shimmering like a meteor shower.

Brett's lips curled into a smile; this was the moment his years of dreams came true. He remembered Izabella once said that he was like a star-once her guiding light, now just one of many. Now, she was adorned with countless stars, their brilliance undimmed by the moon.

Her alabaster skin was radiant in the white gown, not sickly, but vibrant and clear. Her features, framed by the dress and her artful makeup, were delicate yet edged with an undefinable sharpness. This was the most alluring Izabella he had ever seen, yet she wasn't truly his.

Brett extended his hand to her, but Izabella sidestepped him, coolly stating, "I've worn the dress, now keep your promise."

"Seeing you now, I suddenly don't want to let you go," Brett confessed.

Izabella scoffed. "Going back on your word again?"

"What can you do if I do?" he challenged.

Izabella's face remained calm, betraying no anger or weariness. It was as if she had anticipated this very response from a man with a track record of broken promises.

"Half an hour ago, I transferred the files from your computer to my phone. If I'm not back at my place tomorrow, those files will be sent to my company. You know what I can do with them," she stated with a steady voice.

"Izabella, I'm a man on my deathbed; do you really think I still care about money and fame?" he retorted.

But Izabella was no longer the same person who would let Brett manipulate her. With the secrets of the Windham Group in her grasp, she was ready to play her hand if he dared to defy her again.

At the brink of despair, one truly comprehends that a lifetime of struggle, the wealth and fame amassed through ruthless means, mean nothing in the face of death. What cannot be taken along, will forever be left behind.

Izabella simply stated, "I've called the cops."

Brett paused, "What did you say?"

Lifting the hem of her heavy gown, Izabella spoke, while straightening it, "I said I've called the police. The Windham Group's secrets are now with me. You may not care, but

without the Windham can't

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money and power, you can't touch the Dempseys. I absolutely won't allow you to harm the people I care about this time!"

Brett took a deep breath and laughed, "Aren't you worried I have a fallback?"

Izabella's voice dripped with sarcasm, "Do you have a fallback left? If I'm not wrong, only Liam is still loyal to you. The accident at the amusement park was his doing, wasn't it?"

Brett's expression didn't change, but his pupils darkened a shade.

Izabella always liked to shoulder things on her own. It wasn't that she didn't trust those around her, but it was just her way—she had grown up alone, taking on the responsibility of the Salotti family as soon as she came of age, supporting her father and brother. She could only rely on herself.

If one isn't strong, they'll be devoured by those who are. The law of the jungle was a principle she understood from a young age.

The reason Izabella had willingly come to him was crystal clear-a matter of the Dempsey family and someone named Casey.

From the moment Brett voluntarily shared his computer password with Izabella, he had conceded defeat.

As Izabella had said, without its wealth and influence, the Windham Group was no more than a house of cards. He, a man who occasionally coughed up blood and lay in a hospital bed sustained by medication, could do nothing.

But in truth, Brett had never intended to do anything more. He had sworn to himself not to hurt Izabella ever again.

Life is all about letting go of things we can't hold on to.Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

With the foundation of the Windham Group in Izabella's grasp, plus his inherited fortune, no one would dare cross her from now on.

As to him, the "final boss" of this game was about to be defeated.

As for the Dempseys, Brett thought of something and actually smiled.

"Izabella, what you need to learn is how to depend on others, and how to trust the people around you."

Izabella was silent for a moment, and chose not to argue with Brett's words. "Maybe." she mused.

"Come sit over here, and keep me company for a bit," Brett suggested with a glance. The living room had been cleared out, with a white porch swing at the edge, adorned with flowery vines. Izabella walked over and took a seat. Instead of sitting next to her, Brett had a chair brought over to sit beside her. Cameras around them captured the moment.

"Izabella," Brett spoke, "even though you often say there are no 'what ifs' in this world, I can't help but wish, it only today was that day in the past. The right wedding, the right dress, the right ring." The more he spoke, the more he felt he owed Izabella.

Izabella, on tiptoes, gently rocked the swing, gazing at the darkening sky outside and said, "It's too late."

She meant more than just the time.

Muddy water cannot sustain a fish that yearns for cleanliness, a belated sun cannot revive a wilted sunflower, and water doesn't cool in an instant, just as the day doesn't turn to night in the blink of an eye. "Izabella, will you remember me in the future? And do you wish for my death?" Brett's voice was hoarse and cautious, torn between wanting to hear the answer and fearing it wouldn't match his expectations. He was like a man who'd just climbed out from the abyss; the light was so piercing for him that he could only half-close his eyes and wait in silence.

After a long pause, Izabella replied, "Sometimes, Brett, I wish you'd just die and stop haunting me. Other times, I hope you could live. As long as you're alive, the miseries of this world won't let you be."