Twisted Ties of Love

The searing pain in his lungs wasn't subsiding anytime soon, yet Brett couldn't afford to wait. He traced Casey's location through his mobile and had someone follow him immediately.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

As Brett stared at the computer screen, he saw a faint reflection of himself, shrouded in darkness, a stranger riddled with anxiety and fear.

Ever since Christmas, he had deliberately avoided any news about Izabella and Casey.

Yet at this moment, he missed Izabella terribly, an insatiable longing that he couldn't shake off. He wished she was right in front of him, hearing her voice, whether she was happy or angry, as long as he could see her safe and sound. Even if she were to insult him or beat him, he would willingly take it.

The thought of Izabella disappearing, the possible dangers she could be facing, it was enough to wrench his heart apart.

For Izabella, he would willingly give up his own life, despite the fact that his life was already hanging by a thread, and hence, not worth much.

People were always drawn to what they loved at first sight.

Brett had attempted to forget Izabella, he had even tried hypnosis, but every time he would give up at the last minute. He couldn't bear to forget Izabella, to be reduced to a mere stranger in her life. Their relationship was such that if he chose to let go, it would mean a permanent end.

Brett and Casey agreed to meet at the destination.

Both their faces were grim. The road ahead led to the outskirts, a place devoid of surveillance cameras, making it difficult to track Izabella's abductors.

While Casey analyzed the terrain to deduce Izabella's possible route, Brett tasked his men to investigate Nathaniel. Working together, they were able to pick up on Izabella's trail once more.

At the base of the outskirts, there was an abandoned brick factory. As Casey was about to step on the accelerator, the passenger side door opened and Brett slid in.

Casey had no time to converse with Brett. If he wanted to come along, so be it. The dimly lit roads of the outskirts seemed endless as Casey pressed the pedal to the metal, the path becoming more remote as he turned into a winding mountain road.

The silent journey was a torment for Casey as every passing second felt like an eternity.

Without a location, Casey had no way of knowing Izabella's current situation. Was she terrified?

Casey didn't want a repeat of the helplessness he felt years ago, when he was unable to do anything as Izabella suffered.

Brett, too, remained silent, staring at the road ahead. After a while, he finally turned to look at Casey, his gaze cold and scrutinizing, lingering on every inch of Casey's face. Then, out of the blue, he asked, "Do you want to know about my past with Izabella?"

Brett was unaware that Casey had regained his memory. As Casey drove, he had to divide his attention between driving and listening to Brett's words. He remembered how Brett had told him that he was merely a replacement.

In a way, Casey should be "grateful" to Brett. If not for him, he wouldn't have known he held a place in Izabella's heart.

"You mean, you want me to know how you mistreated Izabella? How you drove her to her death?" Casey retorted, his lips pressed tightly together, his right hand gripping the steering wheel so hard that the car wavered slightly.

Brett had shaved his head, revealing his handsome features. However, his illness had left him pallid and sickly, especially in the chilly night, his lips turning white due to lack of blood.

Casey glanced at Brett in the rearview mirror, catching sight of his eyes.

Brett was known for his endurance, but now his eyes were red, filled with suppressed pain.

"You're not me. Izabella and I have been through a lot. I love her." Brett wanted to tell Casey that his love for Izabella was no less than Casey's. He was willing to give up his life for her. In the three years following Izabella's death, he had thought of ending his own life multiple times. But Izabella's last words, asking him to live until natural death, had prevented him from doing so even in his darkest moments.

As he had said, if Izabella were to disappear one day, he would go insane. He loved her to the point of obsession, and indeed, he had lost his sanity for three to four years, only recovering when he met Izabella again.

Now diagnosed with lung cancer and with no effective treatment available, he knew he didn't have much time left. Unlike Casey, he didn't have the luxury of time, and he knew he wouldn't get to grow old with Izabella.

His life was simply too short to afford to hold Izabella back any longer.

Facing death, he had no choice but to let go of Izabella. All he hoped for was Izabella's forgiveness before he died, to make amends for the mistakes he had made. He wished Izabella could spend more time with him before his death.

So, Casey, you're not me. If you were me, dying, wouldn't you want to see more of Izabella? When time is running out, how can you talk about letting go?

Casey laughed sarcastically. His lips were curved into a smile, but his face was devoid of any humor, his eyes cold as ice. He opened his mouth, and Brett heard his words.

"Indeed, I'm not you. If I were you, I wouldn't have mistreated her in the first place. So don't compare me with you." If Izabella had married him from the start, he would've cherished her, held her in his arms. Casey had never even raised his voice at Izabella, he couldn't even imagine how Brett could've raised his hand against her.

Brett changed his line of attack, "I thought Izabella would be safe with you, but she's been kidnapped and threatened time and again. What can you offer her, Casey? Your fans are even shaming her online. If you can't keep her safe, then I won't let go this time."

Switching arguments just because he was losing the previous one?

"Again?" The word hung in the air, heavy with sarcasm. Casey shot a cold glare at Brett. "How many times have you let go, Brett? Yearning for Izabella to come back to you, to taste the bitterness of abandonment

you

once more? Should I ment

how Izabella died? How her fingers were crippled? I gave you chances, Brett. You just didn't know how to cherish them."

Brett's pupils contracted, a ripple of shock passing through his eyes.

Casey suppressed his anger, his eyes unreadable. "I risked my life to save you, even lost my memories and played the fool for fifteen long years. Have you ever thought about repaying me, Brett?" "You remember everything?"

"Yeah, I do. If I hadn't, would you

have spun more lies to deceive me? When you asked me to let go of Izabella, didn't you feel a shred of guilt? Oh, Brett, you are the most shameless, despicable person ¶ve ever met. If it wasn't for the wrong timing, I'd beat the daylight out of you. You want me to let her go? Can you give me back the healthy, cheerful Izabella from before?"

No one owed Brett anything. His selfishness had ruined everyone. Casey's face darkened. "You're truly despicable."

Everything had come back to Casey. Brett had hoped for a sliver of chance, but with Casey's regained memories, there was nothing left for him.

Brett gave a self-deprecating smile, turning to look into the darkness outside, feeling a chill creep over him.

Izabella had once asked him why his heart was so cold, despite her years of trying to warm it.

She didn't understand that when something cold froze into ice, it became brittle. The slightest pressure could shatter it. How could he let anyone hold it?

"You're right. I am despicable. I knew Izabella mistook me for you, yet I kept quiet, arrogantly playing the impostor, trying to replace you completely. When I learned of your death, I was relieved. Finally, no one could threaten my relationship with Izabella. My feelings for her are no less than yours."

"Yes, you met Izabella first. But who spent more time with her? My time with her was longer than yours. You say I don't deserve to love Izabella, but who defines what kind of love is worthy? It's like a flower. Your love might be nurturing and caring, while mine was possessive and wanted to pluck it. Does that make my love unworthy?"

A flower will eventually die. Some people loved a flower by watching it wither in a pot, while others loved a flower by preserving it at its most beautiful state as a dried flower or a specimen.

Both were forms of love. Who's to say which was more shallow? Brett's love for Izabella was as deep as Casey's.

Brett's words once again lowered Casey's estimation of him. He exhaled deeply, stepping on the gas and starting the car on the mountain road.

"So, your love is to let her die?" Casey had endured more than ten hours on the plane, his eyes aching from fatigue. Now, provoked by Brett, he couldn't hold back his tears anymore.

"Don't use your love to bind Izabella,

Brett. She's not a flower." Casey breathed heavily. "I met her under three different identities before we finally got together. I've been with her for so long and I hardly dare to raise my voice to her. She's a once-in-a-lifetime treasure that you're afraid to melt if you hold it in

е

your mouth, or drop if you hold it in your hand. And yet, you tortured her to death in my absence. Do you know how much Izabella fears pain? How much she cries?"

Brett stiffened. He hated his past self as much as Casey did. If he could go back in time, he would have killed his past self.

Brett was like a boneless snake, drained of all energy. All he could do was clench his jaw. How could he not know how much Izabella feared pain and how much she cried?

Casey was seething with anger. He longed to kill Brett, but after he had said his piece, his throat tightened as if someone was choking him. The anger subsided, replaced by an unprecedented sadness and despair.

Regaining his memories and remembering the past, Izabella was returned to him. The Izabella before Brett was much more proud and vibrant than she was now. Brett had ruined her, forcing her to hide her dazzling light.

Just like a hedgehog pulling in its spines, once it's unprotected, all that awaits was harm and death.

If Brett had only replaced him and spent time with Izabella, Casey wouldn't have hated him. But he had hurt Izabella, led her to her death in a fire on Christmas when she was twenty-seven!

Casey's eyes were filled with hatred, anger, murderous intent, and a desire to destroy.

By the time they arrived, it was pitch black. Not a single house could be seen, only fields and mountains.

Casey stopped the car and got out, ruffling his hair. The cold wind blew against his face, sapping the color from his cheeks.

The car was parked at a distance to avoid alarming anyone below. The rest of the journey would have to be taken on foot, stealthily infiltrating the area. Toby, experienced in such matters, began assessing the situation, sending out scouts to survey the surroundings and trying to calm Casey down.

Five minutes later, the police arrived. The remote location interfered with the signal, but three groups of officers quietly surrounded the abandoned factory, starting to plan their raid.

Casey was impatient, longing to charge in. But rationality won over emotion.

The factory was big, so they had to spread out to block all the exits. For Izabella's safety, Casey and Brett had to cooperate.

The silence was deafening, amplifying every rustle of the wind.

Meanwhile, Izabella had been subjected to a second round of electroshock therapy. Nathaniel thought he could bring out Bell this way, but anyone sane would know it was impossible.

Soul possession was beyond the realm of science, yet he tried to use electroshock therapy. This wasn't a case of split personality, and even if it was, such a brutal method wouldn't be used for treatment.