Chapter 302
Presley''s legs suddenly went weak, and at that moment, he felt as if there was something wrong
with his hearing.
Not long after he had left, Izabe filed for divorce from Brett. But because his father provided false
testimony in court saying that Izabe had a mental illness and secretly transferred 80 billion of their
joint assets, she failed to get divorced?
Presley''s body swayed a bit. When he was desperately researching how to save Izabe, his family
was pushing her into a corner, and there was no one to help her.
In an instant, Presley thought about a lot. He didn''t want to believe what Lucas said, but when he
thought of the evasive eyes of his parents after returning and their silence about Izabe, everything
seemed much clearer.
Lucas''s eyes were full of rage like an angry lion. He stood up, grabbing Presley''s shirt on his chest.
Lucas shouted out, "You''re right, I don''t deserve to be her brother because I never epted her.
But what about you, Presley?"
— But what about you, Presley?
Did he think he was nice to Izabe? When she was struggling and begging for help, he not only
failed to save her, but his family was also oppressing her and pushing her into hell.
Izabe was not afraid of hell. What she feared were the people who pushed her to it- not the
wicked viins, but the ones she once thought of as family and treated with sincerity.
Presley stumbled back as Lucas pushed him. He stood there nkly, tears streaming down his face
as his heartpletely crumbled.
"I hurt her, I''m sorry. I said I would take her away as long as she wanted, but what have I done..."
Presley frantically pulled at his hair, squatting on the ground, and gasping for air through his tears.
The scene of Izabe banging her head against the wall in court shed through his mind.
She wanted to live so badly, but they all forced her to lose hope.
All of them were aplices in her death.
Presley''s face went pale, and he wondered nkly, what right did he have to me Lucas?
Lucas tried to shirk responsibility, but could Izabe''s death really be shrugged off?
He used to wish for Izabe''s death, but when she really died, he realized she was the only family
he had left. Without Izabe, he was truly alone.
Lucas choked up, squatting on the ground and gasping for air. He wiped away his tears with his left
hand and rubbed his eyes raw from the pain.
Presley struggled to say, "I don''t believe Izabe is dead."
Lucas took out his phone and ced it at Presley''s feet, "The first call on the screen came
yesterday; you can check it yourself."
"You didn''t check?" Presley asked.
Lucas didn''t answer, he just sobbed with his head down. To put it shamefully, he dared not check.
After receiving the call yesterday, he was stunned until now, not daring to think that Izabe was
dead.
Presley clenched his teeth, bent over, and trembled as he picked up the phone. He then looked up
the number. It was the J City Police Department''s phone number.
Presley was not convinced, so he searched for recent fire-rted fatalities in J City. Sure enough,
he found a piece of news on December 25th.
On Brett''s engagement day, the big screen broadcasting the engagement video experienced
technical difficulties. They identally switched to a surveince video with a room full of mes. In
a sealed room on the first floor, close to the French windows, a skinny figure was engulfed in the
fire. She struggled painfully to hit the ss, leaving her bloody body imprint on it.
Below the video, there was a subtitle.
At 12:30 pm on December 25th, a fire identally erupted at an XX Ind vi. 27-year-old
Izabe Salotti tragically died in the fire.
Presley''s face turned pale, as if he had been burned by the phone. His hands shrank, dropping the
phone with the screen facing Lucas.
Lucas, with his head down, saw the subtitle in the corner of his eyes. He weakly copsed to the
ground.
"Is it her?" Presley thought to himself.
— Was it her?
Presley''s tears streamed down his cheeks. The same name and age could be dismissed as
coincidence, but the face reflected on the window in that video haunted him.
How could he exin the "live" video that suddenly appeared on the big screen at Brett''s
engagement venue?
Presley sobbed, "You''re right; we''re not worthy. We all killed her."
Presley''s words pierced like a sharp knife into his heart, ripping out his ribs. Lucas bowed his head,
tears flowing down his eyshes.
He recalled the time he tricked Izabe into going to the underground casino two years ago. She
was drugged by Heckter Dees with spiked red wine, and the wine spilled from her lips like blood.
He left her without any hesitation, running away on his own. While Izabe trembled behind him,
calling out for him,
"Brother. Are you really going to leave me behind, alone?" Izabe''s smile was more painful than
her cries.
That was thest time in his memory that she called him "brother", right there when he left her two
years ago.
Izabe never gave up easily. She could face difficult and painful situations alone.
That was the first time she begged him, but he abandoned her anyway.
He didn''t feel like he was losing anything when he cursed her to death. It was only when she was
truly gone that he cried out in despair.
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His mother had been gone for 27 years, his father for three years, and now his sister was gone too.
He''d lost the only family who would let him vent his anger, give him money, call him brother softly.
Lucas suddenly remembered something from a long, long time ago.
His mother, pregnant, held his hand and ced it on her protruding belly. She gently asked, "Lucas,
do you want a little brother or a little sister?"
"I want a sister." Lucas said.
"Then you must protect your sister well, not let her get hurt. When she cries, youfort her. When
she''s hungry, you feed her, and if anyone bullies her." His mother said.
Little Lucas raised his small fist, "If anyone bullies my sister, I will punch them until they cry!"
Lucas couldn''t hold back his tears. Why on earth did he suddenly forget all this?
He was the one who always bullied his little sister.
Izabe died in a fire during the freezing winter, never making it home. Lucas'' heart ached so badly,
feeling absolutely devastated.
Leaning against the wall, he unsteadily stood up, "I have to bring her back."
Presley''s voice was hoarse, "I''ll go with you."
They booked their flight tickets that same day. There were no avable seats for the noon flight to J
City, so they had to wait until 4 pm.
Presley went back home to grab his unorganized luggage.
Mrs. Felton watched as he hastily prepared to leave and asked, "Son, you just got home, where are
you going now?"
Dragging his suitcase, Presley froze upon hearing her question, then answered in a heavy tone, "To
J City to pick up Izabe''s body."