Twisted Ties of Love
Chapter 451

Brett was starting to think he might've gone off the deep end to obsess over a woman who was clearly out of reach.

For the past two months, he hadn't tried to contact Izabella directly, but like some creepy stalker, he always knew where she was filming and where she was staying. He'd make sure to rent a place nearby. When Izabella didn't appreciate his gifts, he'd send them to her film crew under the guise of being just another fan. He'd even join her fan group to keep up with her every move.

Thanks to his generous donations, he'd made quite a name for himself in the fan group.

Today, he'd heard early on that the filming was wrapping up. He managed to find out where the film crew's party was, booked a private room at the same hotel, and slipped the waitstaff a few bucks to keep him updated.

When he heard Izabella was leaving, he slipped out too, tailing her quietly as she got into a car with Casey.

He followed them, not leaving even after seeing Izabella and Casey go inside.

He didn't know why, but he just couldn't let go. He wanted to wait for Izabella to come out.

He sat in his car with the heater on, staring at the villa. The lights inside were always on.

What was Izabella doing?

As he pondered this question, he felt a chill run through him, as though his blood had turned to ice.

He kept his gaze fixed on the villa until his eyes started to hurt, but Izabella never came out.

He drove around the villa, finally parking on the east side. The light in that room was always on. He figured it must be the bedroom.

He rolled down the window and looked up, noticing the curtains weren't fully drawn. He saw two shadows overlapping, then disappear.

Suddenly, breathing became difficult. His heart was in his throat and his chest tightened. His eyes burned, as though his world had come to a halt. What were they doing at this hour?

In the cold of winter, a man and a woman were staying in a room deep into the night. What could they possibly be doing?

Brett didn't dare to think about it. He'd been following Izabella for over a month, and although she and Casey were affectionate, they always slept in separate rooms. He'd considered that one day they might move in together.

Even though he'd mentally prepared himself, seeing it unfold in front of him was a punch to the gut.

He looked at his shaking hand, feeling the cold bite into his fingertips. He wished he could rip out the pain.

He shifted his gaze to his reflection in the rearview mirror.

For a moment, he barely recognized himself. His eyes were bloodshot, lifeless, with dark circles under them. His stubble had grown out, making him look like a total wreck. How the hell did he end up like this?

His once beautiful dream of Izabella returning to him, living together.

He'd learned to do so much already, cooking, cleaning, laundry, all without needing Izabella's help.

He'd put his work aside, spending every day with Izabella, supporting her career.

Whenever they had time, they'd go on dates, to places she wanted to go, and at night they'd sleep together.

But reality was a cruel mistress, and beautiful dreams were just dreams.

The woman he once leaned on, the gentle soul, was now upstairs with another man.

Yearning turned into agony, consuming every corner of his body. He was desperate to let it out.

He stared at his reflection in the rearview mirror, clenched his fist, and threw a punch. The mirror cracked.

He continued to punch the mirror like a man possessed, until it finally fell off.

His right hand was mangled, blood oozing from the cuts, the pain was unbearable.

Looking at the chaos in front of him, Brett's hand went limp, blood seeping into his pants.

He'd never believed that Casey had slept with Izabella because he'd never seen it with his own eyes. But now, just a few meters away, he could almost imagine what was happening upstairs. As long as Izabella came out tonight, everything would be fine.

Brett kept telling himself this, but in the end, the light in the room went out, leaving only darkness.

Brett was at a loss for what to do. He couldn't understand why he was here, why he was waiting downstairs, and why he was staring at that room.

Was he here just to face the bitter truth? To embrace his utter disappointment?

When would this torment end?

The pain in his chest was back, and he couldn't tell if it was his heart or his lungs.

When in pain, take some meds. He opened the glove compartment, pulled out a bottle of pills, and popped four into his mouth.

He waited painfully, from dusk till dawn, but Izabella never came out.

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