Chapter 344


    Brett''s gaze swept past Casey andnded on Izabe, who was slowly walking into his line of sight.


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    She wore a loose-fitting men''s white shirt, the hem of which hid her thighs, creating an illusion of her


    wearing nothing underneath. Her long, straight legs were irresistibly attractive.


    Izabe had just taken a shower and washed her hair, her wet hair loosely tied up with a disposable


    hair tie, hanging damply at the back of her head. A few wet strands hung down from her temples,


    adding a touch of allure.


    Brett had imagined meeting Izabe many times, but he never thought it would be in such a


    heartbreaking way.


    This was his long-awaited reunion with Izabe. She was in another man''s room, wearing his


    clothes, her smooth legs on disy, looking in a way he had never seen before.


    At that moment, his heart felt as if it was sealed with countless thumbtacks. He was so heartbroken


    that he couldn''t feel his heartbeat. He had difficulty breathing and was suffocating to the point where


    his eyes were red.


    Brett''s hands clenched into fists involuntarily, his knuckles turning white and trembling with the


    strain. The veins on the back of his hand were bulging as blood rushed to his throat. He could even


    taste a robust metallic vour, as if he would spit out a mouthful of blood as soon as he opened his


    mouth.


    What happened between Izabe and Casey in those few hours she was there? Why did she take a


    bath? Why was sheing out in dishevelled clothes?


    Brett didn''t dare to think further. He clenched his teeth. His tongue pressed hard against his teeth,


    and his chest heaved. He stared at Izabe with reddened eyes, looking like a forsaken dog.


    He screamed Izabe''s name in his heart, but when he saw her again, he couldn''t utter a word, as if


    his soul had left his body and his eyes were dry.


    Izabe had just finished her shower, her hair still wet. She spent a while looking for a hairdryer and


    couldn''t find one. She texted Casey, but he didn''t reply, so she went downstairs.


    But when she did, there was no one in the kitchen. As she was wondering about it, she heard


    voices at the door.


    Thinking it might be Casey''s work colleagues and it might not look good if they saw her there,


    Izabe was about to sneak back upstairs when she heard a familiar voice.


    "Where is Izabe? She''s here. I want to see her."


    The somewhat dizzy Izabe, fresh from the shower, snapped to attention at the sound of this


    voice.


    This voice apanied her until her death in her previous life. Even in her dreams, she would


    dream of it. It would ring in her ears at midnight, waking her from nightmares all night.


    Izabe pressed her lips together, instinctively wanting to hide upstairs. But on second thought, why


    was Brett here calling her name? Had he recognized her?


    How could that be?


    Izabe didn''t dare to act rashly. She knew Brett too well. He wouldn''t give up until he achieved his


    goal. Since he was already outside, he would force his way in no matter what. She could hide for a


    while, but not for a lifetime.


    It would show her guilt and arouse his suspicion if she really hid.


    But fortunately, she was at Casey''s house now, so she didn''t have to face the danger alone.


    Izabe took a deep breath and slowly walked towards the door, asking softly, "Superstar, who are


    you talking to?"


    She was used to calling Casey "Superstar", a nickname that carried a hint of affection when it came


    from her.


    Casey turned around and saw Izabe fresh from the shower, her face damp, her eyes blurred,


    looking like someone you''d want to hold and take care of.


    "It''s cold outside. Come in," he said. Then he answered Izabe''s question, "It''s a distant rtive. I


    don''t know him well."


    Izabe stood there, nced at Brett, and then obediently turned to leave.


    "Izabe, don''t go!" His voice was hoarse, his eyes filled with anger, and the taste of rust in his


    throat was getting stronger.


    Izabe turned around, smiled and asked, "Sir, do we know each other?"


    Brett''s eyshes trembled. If he could, he would also hope that Izabe had forgotten him,


    forgotten the past. So that could start over. But he knew Izabe was pretending.


    She was a born actress, and pretending not to know him was too easy for her.


    So his heart ached even more like a rusty blunt knife was inserted into his heart, a slight pull


    causing severe pain. He had to support his tottering body by holding onto the door frame.


    Brett suppressed his emotions and said, "Izabe, you might have fooled everyone else but can''t


    fool me. When you try not to back down, your gaze tends to drop; when you lie, your hand tends to


    sneak behind your back. And if you don''t know me, why is there so much hatred in your eyes when


    you look at me? The person I saw in the elevator that day was you, wasn''t it?"


    Izabe didn''t expect him to remember that scene in the elevator a couple of weeks ago. She


    thought she had been lucky that time. It seemed she could never escape this man.


    Izabe dropped the smile on her face, her gaze turning icy. So what if he recognized her? Did he


    want her to forgive him and continue their past rtionship?


    Casey, standing nearby, felt uneasy at their inexplicable conversation. He stood guard at the door,


    preventing Brett from getting close to Izabe.


    Izabe sneered, nced at Brett contemptuously, and then turned and walked away without


    hesitation.


    Behind her, Brett suddenly croaked, "Izabe, don''t you want to see Niki? Do you remember Niki?


    The cat that tried to save you from the fire. It lost an ear and a paw to the fire. Its tail was cut short.


    It''s been waiting for you in J City."


    He knew what Izabe cared about. As long as you were nice to her, she would let you into her


    heart, like Presley Felton, Amelia, Tiara, and that cat.


    And he used to be on that list of people she cared about, but now he might have disappeared


    without a trace.


    The human heart was too small. The old Izabe wanted to fit too much into hers, so she got hurt


    so badly.


    "You can wait, but Niki can''t. Cats don''t live very long, and that fire took half of Niki''s life."


    The person who knows you best is often your enemy.


    Brett had Izabe''s Achilles''s heel down pat, knowing exactly how to hit her where it hurt.


    Originally, Izabe''s game n was to get stronger before facing Brett, but she underestimated his


    intuition. She never expected that a mere nce would blow her cover.


    She could''ve waited to meet the person she wanted to see, but she forgot that some things couldn''t


    wait like her cat, Niki.


    She missed her Ragdoll cat, who tried to save her from the fire badly.


    Now that Brett had recognized her, she was bound to face the same issues sooner orter. What''s


    done in the dark wille to light.


    "You''re not seriously gonna use a cat as a bargaining chip, are you?" Izabe didn''t turn around.


    Her frail silhouette stood tall, showing her unyielding spirit.


    "I''m not trying to threaten you. I want to have a word with you," Brett choked out, his eyes glistening.


    He was pleading with Izabe.


    "If you talk to me, you''ll give me the cat?"


    "Uh-huh, I''m not bullshitting you. I''ll bring Niki back to you. He''s yours, to begin with."


    Compared to Brett, Izabe cared more about the cat. Now, she turned around, her icy hatred not


    masked. When Brett met her gaze, he felt ants biting around his eyes, the pain unbearable. He


    couldn''t help but furrow his brow, holding back the sting and swelling in his eyes.


    "Do you want to talk to him alone?" Casey asked Izabe. He wouldn''t stop her if she agreed; he


    wouldn''t let Brett cross the doorstep if she didn''t.


    "Uh-huh, just for a bit."


    Casey''s face was gloomy. From Brett''s words, he could tell that the cat meant a lot to Izabe. He


    had no right to stop her.


    "I''ll leave, so you two."


    "No need," Izabe interrupted him. "I''m going out with him. I''ll be back in ten minutes tops."


    She didn''t want to mess up Casey''s ce.


    Casey stared at her for a while, finally nodding in agreement. He took a coat from the rack near the


    door, and draped it over Izabe''s shoulders, acting nonchnt about their closeness.


    "Put on the coat. It''s cold outside. Got your phone?"


    Izabe didn''t refuse his kindness, putting on the coat and confirming, "Yeah, and the location is


    on."


    Casey felt somewhat relieved. It was still raining outside. He handed Izabe an umbre and


    removed a face mask from the drawer.


    "Put on the mask so you''re not recognized. Come back soon. Your hair''s still wet. I''ll blow-dry it for


    you when you''re back, don''t catch a cold."


    "Mhm, will do," Izabe put on the mask to ensure she wouldn''t be recognized before leaving.


    Brett stood at the door, feeling like a total outsider. He tried to keep his cool, turning around, his


    silhouette trembling. This scene was too much for him. He wanted to throw away the coat on


    Izabe even more, to break the hands that touched her.


    Brett concealed the rage in his chest, telling Liam, spacing out next to him, "Wait for me in the car."


    Liam nodded and left immediately.


    Izabe went outside with the umbre. It was a bit chilly in the rainy weather, especially when the


    wind blew the rain onto her face.


    Izabe nced at the road sign and headed towards the river. Brett followed her in silence. Only


    the sound of their footsteps could be heard.


    "What did you want to talk about?"


    There were so many things he wanted to say to Izabe, but he couldn''t utter a word when it came


    to it.


    Brett stared at the familiar figure in front of him. He reached out his hand, it felt like he could touch


    her with just a gentle grasp, but he suppressed his longing.


    These three years he didn''t know how he got through them. He didn''t sleep well one single day, and


    there wasn''t a day he didn''t miss her.


    The despair of longing could corrode one''s soul. He thought he would never get through this life, but


    destiny gave him a second chance.


    Izabe was by his side again. They were so close, he could hear her breathing, feel her warmth.


    He didn''t find it strange that Izabe "came back from the dead." It seemed like it was meant to be.


    "Have you been here all these three years, never left?"


    Brett''s mouth twitched in bitterness, "It''s like the fire three years ago was just a nightmare. You''ve


    been alive. There was no fire. You didn''t die..."


    Izabe let out a cold chuckle, interrupting Brett''s monologue. It was as if she heard a hrious joke.


    Sheughed so hard her body convulsed, her eyes turning red.


    She turned sideways, touching her face, her voice husky, "Brett, looking at this face that''s not mine,


    this intact body, the stomach that hasn''t been invaded by cancer cells, can you still fool yourself that


    I didn''t die?"


    Yes, he couldn''t lie to himself. Izabe did die once. In that fire, she joined forces with Nathaniel


    Krueger to get back at him.


    He still remembered the body dug out from the ruins, Izabe''s face ruined by the fire, the bracelet


    that fell off her burnt hand bone still on his wrist.


    "Izabe, I know whatever I say is pointless, but I still want to beg for your forgiveness. I''ll give you


    anything." Brett pleaded, his eyes full of longing. After saying this, tears trickled down his cheeks.


    Izabe looked disgusted, she stepped back, widening the distance between them. For these three


    years, more than a thousand days and nights, Brett was no longer the high and mighty Brett.


    "You want me to forgive you?" She was amazed Brett dared to say that.


    Just a casual word of forgiveness can turn the page on her death?