Chapter 89
Chapter 89
This really sounded like Izabella's style of speaking. Brett put Kaley on the couch and said, "Trista, go call Dr. James."
Trista glanced at Kaley and immediately turned to make the call.
Izabella watched everything happening downstairs. She had never done anything wrong to Kaley, yet Kaley kept trying to set her up and send her to her doom.
"Izabella, got anything else to say?" Brett's eyes pierced into Izabella as he walked upstairs, the sound of his shoes on the steps like they were stepping on her heart.
At this point, any explanation would just sound like a lame excuse. Brett was pissed off and wouldn't listen to a word from Izabella.
Izabella's face turned extremely pale. In a split second, she made up her mind, ran back to her bedroom like she was fleeing for her life, and locked the door with trembling hands.
"Izabella, open the door." The voice from outside sounded like Satan crawling up from hell.
Izabella took a few deep breaths, biting her lip, and trembled, "Brett, all of this is set up by Kaley. I didn't push her. If you don't believe me, check the surveillance!"
"Set up by Kaley?" Brett laughed coldly. "Do you think she's like you?"
In Brett's eyes, Izabella had always been the one setting things up, like when she pretended to have stomach cancer at the hospital.
That's how people are. When someone you used to trust suddenly changes in your eyes, everything you've overlooked in the past comes flooding in and becomes uncontrollable. Not to mention, Brett had never truly trusted Izabella.
Izabella stared blankly and muttered, "I didn't push her."
"You said Kaley framed you, but could Trista have framed you too?"
"I did say those things, but I didn't push her."
"Enough!" Brett interrupted her angrily. "Your words are enough to prove that you resent Kaley!"
He never thought Izabella would forget so quickly. It wasn't long ago that he warned her not to target Kaley.
But if Brett were to lock her up for four days like last time, what would she do? There was nothing he wouldn't do.
Brett started counting down, telling Izabella to open the door.
"1---" The deep voice from the outside disrupted Izabella's thoughts, her hands clasping tightly, cold sweat dripping from her forehead.
"2---" He said through clenched teeth, snorting with anger because Izabella dared to disobey him.
Before he could count to three, Brett kicked the door. The solid wood door was sturdy but couldn't withstand Brett's violence. The sound of the door shaking seemed like it was about to collapse.
Izabella was frightened, and she didn't dare lean against the door. Her eyes darted helplessly, looking for something to block the door.
As she was about to move a desk, the door burst open with a loud crash, and she cowered, trembling with fear, in the corner, her eyes filled with terror.
Brett strode into the bedroom, smoothed back his disheveled hair, and gave Izabella a cold sneer when he saw her hiding in the corner. "Izabella, why can't you just behave and listen to me? Do you
want a damn beating?"
He cussed but remained calm on the surface. However, Izabella knew he must be furious.
Scared, Izabella trembled and said, "I really didn't push her...I didn't..."
Izabella dared not look up nor close her eyes. Her eyes were fixed on the shadow getting closer and closer to her. Eventually, a pair of black leather shoes remained in her view, the oppressive force suffocating her.
Brett sat down on the bed leisurely, lit a cigarette, took a drag, soon the smoke covered his face, his eyes dark and gloomy.
The room was so quiet that Izabella could hear the sound of Brett flicking his ashes.
Brett sat in front of her, the smell of smoke wafting up her nose, and the faint ashes falling on her head.
Izabella felt as if she was being strangled, unable to breathe. Brett's aura nearly drove her insane. This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.
She had never seen such a terrifying side of Brett, barely managing to stop her teeth from chattering by biting her lower lip.
"Lift your head."
Izabella's shoulders jerked, but she didn't move.
Brett's eyes turned cold. "Do I need to repeat it?"
Out of fear, Izabella slowly raised her head, her eyes red from crying.
Brett laughed coldly, threw the cigarette on the floor, and stepped on it to extinguish the flame. The orange-red glow on the cigarette turned into a black stain, dirtying the clean floor.