Twisted Ties of Love
Chapter 272

There's a saying that if someone really loves you, you can't completely leave them unless they're willing to let you go.

So, does Brett's unwillingness to let Izabella go mean that he really loves her? If he loves her, why does he give her such a fierce look?

Tears kept falling down her face due to nervousness and fear.

Brett expressionlessly watched the tears roll down Izabella's face, gripping her hand tightly until the bodyguard injected the drug into her wrist, only then did he loosen his grip slightly.

Shortly after the injection, Izabella's consciousness began to blur, and her limbs went numb. She tried to scream for help but could not make a sound. Tears kept flowing, and that was the greatest strength she could muster at the moment.

Brett picked up the weak Izabella in his arms and ordered the bodyguard to clean up the room.

Trembling and crying, Izabella begged, "Please let me go, Brett. Let me go, please." She leaned softly in his arms, her weak voice barely audible.

The faint sound was so deep and soft that Brett almost thought it was his illusion.

He didn't speak but held Izabella even tighter, carrying her to the car.

At 8:30 in the evening, there were still many people on the street. Some were taking a walk after dinner, some were dancing, and some were young people meeting up for dinner.

Like before, onlookers curiously watched the luxury cars and the tall, well-dressed men coming down from the building but didn't dare to approach.

Brett didn't like the attention. After putting Izabella in the car, he ordered his men to handle the situation to avoid any unnecessary trouble.

Brett looked down at Izabella curled up in his arms like a wounded cat and gently stroked her sad brow.

"Izabella, I'll never let you go in this lifetime."

This sentence was almost like a cage that trapped her soul inside.

Under the influence of the drug, Izabella gradually stopped crying. Her eyes widened, and her gaze was lifeless. The tears vanished, and her hollow eyes sent chills down Brett's spine. Brett couldn't stand her making such an expression in the car, as it reminded him of the tragic death of his parents.

After so many years, the tragic image of his parents dying to protect him still haunted him deeply.

He sometimes thought that if he hadn't been in the car at that time, would his parents still be alive?

Brett covered Izabella's eyes with his trembling hand, and in the darkness, she gradually fell into a stupor.

Izabella had a dream. She dreamed of falling off a cliff, and Brett grabbed her and pulled her up. Just as she wanted to hug him tightly, Brett's hand went through her stomach.

Startled awake from the nightmare, Izabella looked up and saw Brett's dark eyes. Looking around, she realized she was in a white room with the smell of disinfectant in the air. She had been taken to the hospital by Brett! Izabella instinctively tried to get up and escape, but she was tied to the bed and couldn't move.

Covered in cold sweat, even more panicked than the nightmare, Brett's gaze made her feel even more agitated.

"You've slept for 10 hours," Brett said indifferently.

It was then that Izabella noticed the bright sunlight outside, the dazzling light shining through the window, making her eyes hurt.

"Do you want some water?" asked Brett.

Her throat felt dry and bitter. Izabella tried to free her hands but still couldn't muster the strength.

"Stop struggling and save your energy," Brett said as he poured Izabella a glass of water, he put a straw in the glass so it's easier for her to drink.

He held the straw to Izabella's lips. "take a sip."

"Get lost!" she croaked hoarsely.

"If you don't drink now, you won't have any during the surgery."

Izabella glared at him, clenching her fists, feeling intense pain all over her body, and a raspy sound came from her throat.

"I don't want to, Brett, I hate you," she coldly said with a hint of a sob.

It seemed their baby sensed danger, trembling slightly in her womb.

It was the first time the baby moved, and it happened at such a moment.

Tears kept flowing, and Izabella wondered how to protect her child as she was tied here. Intense pain consumed her mind, and she felt as if half of her head was going numb. "Brett, the baby just moved, can you feel it? That's your child, and you'll be a father in a few months."

Brett's cold gaze fell on her stomach. "I don't like it."

Upon hearing this, Izabella felt her mind burning with anger, his voice cold and venomous like a snake, tightly wrapped around her belly.

"How could you not like it? We even picked names together, have you forgotten?"

"That was your wishful thinking; I never participated in it."

So he had been deceiving her all along, trampling on her as she invested her feelings, making her suffer.

At that moment, the doctor and nurse walked in, preparing to take Izabella to the operating room for an abortion.

Desperate, Izabella grabbed a nurse's hand tightly and screamed, "No, I don't agree, please, I beg you."

"Your body isn't fit for childbirth, let go, Ms. Salotti, don't make it hard for us."

She couldn't let go. Once she did, the baby in her womb would be gone.

Her tears turned into fierce anger, and facing the indifferent nurse and Brett, Izabella roared hoarsely.

She remembered the nightmare, how the same person who could pull you up from the edge of a cliff could mercilessly push you off.

Izabella turned pale, coughing violently on the edge of the bed. She coughed painfully, retching, and tears continued to flow.

Her eyes were fixed on Brett, desperately trying to understand his heart and why all her attempts failed to warm it.

If Brett had any heart, he wouldn't be so cruel as to take her child away from her.

She tried every possible way, threats and pleas, but Brett remained unmoved.

His gaze was colder than ever, as if mocking her stupidity.

With a final glance, Izabella struggled to say, "I hate you."

Sunlight streamed in through the window, dim and blurry, casting a shadow over her hopeless eyes before fading away.

After Izabella was wheeled into the operating room, Brett slumped down against the wall, staring at his hands. They were clean, but he saw them smeared with blood.

Tears fell into his palms, and he clenched his fists, holding back more tears.

On October 22, when Izabella was four months pregnant, Brett would never forget the day he sent his beloved into the operating room.

From then on, every time he thought of that day, he would shiver, and it became the second nightmare of his life.

Lying in the operating room, Izabella felt drowsy and thought she was nearing death.

Baby, don't leave mama; don't come out.

Her stomach began to hurt, and she tasted the metallic flavor of blood. The sweet, bloody taste in her throat grew stronger, making her breathing shallow due to the pain. She felt like she was on the verge of suffocating.

She wished she could sleep forever and never wake up.

Her consciousness gradually faded, sensing the nearing scent of death. She thought it would be better to die like this; there was nothing left worth longing for in this world.

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