Twisted Ties of Love

"Izabella's gone. Why the hell am I even trying?"

Everything Casey had done was for Izabella. He had poured his sweat into taking over the Dempsey family business, all to ease her worries, to create an illusion that everything was fine. He didn't want her to overthink, to feel guilt or unease.This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Izabella always put others before herself, thinking she was a burden. It was a habit born from a childhood lacking love and a sense of security. A little kindness from others, and she'd remember it forever; a simple candy could become the sweetest memory in her mind.

Those starved for love often fell into two categories: the indifferent and the hypersensitive. Izabella was the latter, ever desiring what she lacked, repaying any sense of security given to her. Bunny remained silent.

Casey said nothing more. He had abandoned his work completely, determined to find Izabella.

But no matter how hard he searched, Izabella seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Bunny had joined the search for a day, asking around town. No sign of her in R City; perhaps she had left the country after being missing for so long.

Casey hadn't slept all night, running around in the rain all day without a bite to eat. At most, he'd had a few sips of hot water. With a bout of acute gastritis flaring up, he endured the pain, his complexion turning pale.

He switched the IV needle to his other hand and continued his treatment after a brief rest. Once the pain subsided, he removed the needle and resumed his search, completely disregarding his own health. Knowing she couldn't stop him, Bunny let him be. Brett was unreachable by phone, so Bunny sent a text message.

It was just a short message, to the point, "We need to talk."

During her time away from Casey, Izabella hadn't left R City. She was holed up in the Quiet Forest Estates.

Every day, she'd stare blankly at her phone or stand by the floor-to-ceiling windows with a book in hand, ignoring whatever Brett said to her, like a lifeless doll.

Sometimes Brett felt he was quite cheap. He preferred the old Izabella who would lash out at him, call him heartless, crazy, or a lowlife, rather than this soulless shell she had become.

Had he really made a mistake?

"You haven't eaten all day. Aren't you hungry?"

Tired from standing, Izabella curled up in the rocking chair. The heater was on, and she wore only a T-shirt, one she had left behind years ago. Despite its age and musty smell, it was still wearable after a good wash.

She had no clothes of her own with her and refused to wear anything Brett bought. She preferred her old clothes.

Brett watched her in those old clothes, his eyes filled with nostalgia.

"You're still the same as when we first met. Nothing's changed."

The image of a twenty-year-old Izabella came to mind, her lips curled in a defiant smile. Everyone said Ms. Izabella was as proud as a swan, dismissing her suitors with indifference. Yet, she always looked at Brett with warmth and admiration.

No one could have predicted that one day, the proud Izabella would cast aside her dignity to chase after a man, becoming the talk of the town.

And after that, Brett's actions turned the once bubbly Izabella cold, her dimples that used to cradle sweetness all but disappearing.

The memory of Izabella seemed to drift further away, even though she was right in front of him. He couldn't recall the last time he saw her smile at him.

"The only one that hasn't changed is you. If I were still like before, that would just make me stupid and pathetic," Izabella said.

Brett's heart tightened. "That's not what I meant."

Izabella scoffed, a hollow laugh without joy. "Then what do you mean?"

Brett's inflicted pain was a double-edged sword, torturing Izabella both physically and psychologically. During the years Izabella was 'dead,' Brett had preserved everything here, even the wedding photo she had smashed, untouched in its original place.

Izabella felt a hopeless sadness, so profound that she couldn't even summon anger.

"Brett, only you deceive yourself into thinking nothing's changed."

Brett's fingers twitched, and he clenched his hand, subtly changing the subject. "Have some cereal. You have a sensitive stomach; don't starve yourself into pain."

"Eating with your face around makes me nauseous."

"I'll bring it up to you."

Brett turned away, the plum blossoms blooming outside the window, their fragrance almost permeating the closed panes.

Izabella loved cereal. Brett had made some for her. The scent reached him before he even entered the kitchen.

Would she eat her favorite meal?

Along with the cereal, Brett had prepared dozens of pies, stored in the freezer, ready whenever Izabella felt hungry.

He carried a bowl of cereal upstairs, where Izabella was still curled up in the rocking chair, gazing mesmerized at the plum blossoms outside.

After a long pause, Brett placed the cereal on the coffee table. "Have some cereal."

"I'm not hungry. I don't have an appetite."

"I'll leave you alone. I'll go downstairs."

Her tone was even. "Anything you touch disgusts me."

"What do you want, then?"

In the room, Izabella turned her back to Brett, her voice tired. "Leave. If I get hungry, I'll find food myself. You don't need to hover around me every day, reminding me of my stomach aches. I know about stomach problems, and I know they can lead to something worse, like cancer."

Brett's usually stoic face seethed with barely contained fury, his eyes turning a fierce red. "Since you know your body might get sick, eat your meals properly instead of sulking here with me. Not eating for a day won't solve anything!"

He didn't want to force Izabella, but often the methods he least wanted to use were the most effective. The cereal on the side had cooled.

After testing the temperature to ensure it wouldn't burn, Brett reached out and grabbed Izabella's hand.

Her frame was light, easily hoisted with a single pull. Izabella felt a sharp sting as Brett yanked her up, straining the muscles in her arm. "Brett, let go of me!" she hissed through gritted teeth.

Brett tossed her onto the bed and then pinned her jaw, forcing her mouth open as he reached for the bowl of cereal sitting on the nightstand. He pressed the spoon against her lips, intent on pouring the cereal into her mouth.

The cereal that Brett had cooked

himself, was flavorful, but the rich taste was too much for Izabella, who hadn't eaten all day. After being forced to swallow half a bowl, her stomach revolted. She retched, spitting out the contents as the edge of the spoon scraped her tip,

reddening but not breaking the skin.

At the sight of her vomiting, Brett immediately let her go, worried she might choke. He gently patted her back, soothing her as if he hadn't been the one force-feeding her moments before.

Tears welled up in Izabella's eyes as the carpet beneath the bed became soiled. She looked at him with reddened eyes and asked, "Brett, are you going to treat me like you used to?"

Brett paused, then said, "I don't want to, but you seem to only respond to this approach. Izabella, I'm not known for my patience. Since you've chosen to be by my side, you should behave. When I say eat, you eat. You claim to know all my tactics, don't you? Then you wouldn't want the Dempsey family to suffer another crisis over your 'masochism,' right?"

I

The room fell silent. Brett's gaze was calm yet intense as he softly said, "You know I don't have much time. Just indulge me, and it'll be better for everyone."

Threats were the most effective tool in his arsenal.

It had been a long time since Izabella felt the acidic pain of nausea. Meeting Brett's serious gaze, she knew he was capable of anything.

Her eyes flickered to the half-bowl of cereal left on the side. Her hand trembled as she reached for it, gripping the spoon tightly and forcing bite after bite down her throat.

Watching her comply, Brett felt an inexplicable pang of pain. Once she finished, he reverted to his cold demeanor.

"Do you want more?"

Izabella shook her head.

Knowing she had a small appetite, Brett didn't push her to eat more, which would only make her feel worse.

He picked up the empty bowl. "See?

If you were this obedient from the start, we wouldn't have any issues. I've already dealt with the trouble from the Dempsey side. They'll be back on track soon enough. But no mistake. If I can suppress them once, I can do it again. How you treat me will determine how I treat them."

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