Twisted Ties of Love

It wasn't that he didn't trust Izabella; it was more that he didn't trust himself to fall for her. As he began to care for her, he chose to ignore the feelings that were clearly there.

Now, with the reality of his lung cancer diagnosis before him, Brett understood that even if he hadn't been sick, a lifetime wouldn't be enough to win Izabella over.

If the roles were reversed, he would have been long gone - no way he could stand someone like himself. So how could he expect Izabella to accept him?

It was just like she had said once.

- "I only treated him the way he used to treat me, and look how quickly he couldn't handle it."

Not every apology earned forgiveness, and not all wounds healed.

"Izabella, do you know why I chose to test the Dempsey family in such a way?"

Every time Brett talked about where they'd go to have fun, Izabella felt like her ears were infested with buzzing flies - annoying and repulsive. And now, he was shifting the conversation with a serious, businesslike demeanor, ready to delve into something grave.

"Your brother Lucas's hand wasn't chopped off by me," Brett said, fixing his gaze firmly on Izabella's face.

Surprisingly, her face remained expressionless, her eyes not even blinking, no scorn, no doubt, no trace of past hatred - her calm was unexpected.

"I know it wasn't you."

Jake's pupils contracted, "How could you possibly know that?"

"Because you said so at the time. You didn't chop off Lucas's hand."

Back then, Izabella despised Brett with every fiber of her being. He had driven her family to bankruptcy and indirectly caused her father to leap to his demise. He used Lucas to threaten her. After Lucas's hand was ruined, she suspected it was Brett's doing, because this was his usual method he'd use.

He knew her weaknesses, and knew she cared about family, regardless of how they treated her. Her father's words before his suicide, telling her to take care of her brother, became a noose around her neck.

In the midst of her hatred for Brett, coupled with his frequent threats using Lucas, there were many reasons to suspect him. But when Brett claimed he hadn't maimed Lucas, she believed him.

Did she still love him then?

No.

She simply knew him. If he had done it, he would have admitted it. He wouldn't stoop to lying about Lucas's injury - it was too easy a thing for him to do.

Now it was Brett's turn to fall silent. He had thought Izabella's decision to divorce him was because she believed he was responsible for Lucas's handicap, but it wasn't so.

Even though she believed in him, he couldn't feel happy about it. He only realized that Izabella had lost all heart for him long ago.

"Don't you want to know who actually chopped off Lucas's hand?"

"I don't care anymore. You used to call me cheap, and I was indeed cheap, selling my freedom for the sake of such relatives." Izabella said with a faint, self-mocking laugh, "Do you think I care about him after nearly losing my life because of a betrayal? Even if his hand was fine, I would have done it myself. As it turns out, it really does help kick a gambling habit."

Her attitude toward Lucas was much the same as toward Brett. She was done playing the saint, done being weary. So, when a voice claiming to be divine spoke to her after her death, she didn't hesitate to say she wanted to be cold, unfeeling, unbound by love, caring for no one.

But there was always a difference between thought and practice. The ideal was full but the reality was bony.

But she could fall for Casey. She had no regrets about that.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

She truly didn't care about Lucas anymore, not even if he shed tears of regret after her death. She wouldn't forgive.

The taste of betrayal by kin was bitter. When Lucas had left her in that underground gambling den, he should have been prepared for her to never "come back."

"Never coming back" wasn't just about her physically, but also her feelings.

Once discarded, there was no return, because those who'd been abandoned feared it happening again.

Brett choked up; then after a

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moment, he said, "Even if you want to know, I have to tell you. Lucas's hand was chopped off by Casey, who was then known as Cameron Windham. He was raised by the family's enforcers, taught to fight at the age of three, his hands stained with more than adittle blood. He grew up in a world of violence, and it's likely he embraced it."

Brett wasn't trying to drive a wedge between her and Casey; he was simply speaking his mind.

"See, he knew Lucas was your brother, but he still made the cut."

Lucas's hand, a deed of Casey's doing? Izabella merely furrowed her brow for a moment before letting it smooth out.

Even if Casey had been the one to act back then, what did it matter now?