Chapter 512
The soirée was in full swing. Izabella cast a casual glance around the room, noting familiar faces among the crowd. Suddenly, her gaze landed on a familiar figure. As people came up to her trying to strike up a conversation, it was clear they were actually interested in her companion, Casey.
In the eyes of the others present, she was merely an accessory, Casey's arm candy, not even a fiancée.
In this world, they valued power or pedigree. To them, Izabella was merely a pretty face, a decorative flower to keep at home. Bringing someone like her to such a gathering was considered a faux pas. Izabella's gaze darkened as she stared at the familiar back. Eventually, the figure stopped, taking a glass of red wine from a waiter. As if sensing the gaze on him, the man turned around, his glass held high.
Brett.
It wasn't surprising to see him at such an event. The guests were all influential figures in the business world, and Brett, being the richest man in J City, had every reason to be there.
After Nathaniel's death, previous shareholders had rallied behind Brett. He was the heir to the Windham Group, and now that he had decided to take over, it naturally fell into his hands.
Adding Nathaniel's shares to his own, Brett now controlled eighty percent of the Windham Group.
His fame had been on the rise in recent months, and his appearance at such a formal event tonight was more attention-grabbing than the host, the Dempsey Group.
Two people accompanied Brett, one being Liam, the other his bodyguard, ensuring no one would get too close.
As Brett turned, his gaze met Izabella's. His indifferent eyes softened, and he lifted his wine glass towards her before downing his drink. Liam, too late to intervene, watched as his glass emptied, feeling a wave of anxiety.
"Mr. Windham, have you forgotten the doctor's orders? No smoking or drinking," Liam chided.
"I know," Brett replied, his voice hoarse.
"Then why." Liam trailed off, noticing Brett's gaze fixed upon Izabella.
Izabella, in her red dress, was engaged in pleasant conversation. Her face was adorned with a beautiful smile.
Liam was taken aback. He knew Izabella had changed a lot, but he hadn't expected the transformation to be so drastic.
Even those who knew her best would be momentarily stunned by her appearance.
Was this really Izabella?
No, this was the Izabella they had first known. As time went by, they had forgotten what Izabella used to be like, thinking she was a bird with broken wings, on the brink of death, locked in a cage. Brett's lips curled into a smile. His gaze was distant, as if he was lost in memories, and his smile gradually turned bitter.
"Doesn't she look beautiful?" Brett mused.
Liam nodded absently. Indeed, Izabella, though changed, was gradually returning to her former self, to the point where traces of Bell were nearly gone.
Izabella was living more like the proud and flamboyant woman she once was.
"Thirteen years have passed in the blink of an eye," Brett sighed. Though he had gulped down wine, it felt like bitter medicine, the taste lingering in his throat.
No one feared medicine. What they feared was bitterness.
Even if Izabella no longer had room for him in her heart, Brett's gaze still followed her silhouette. She was standing next to another man, her arm linked with his, like a bird relying on a person. His eyes suddenly blurred, as if fogged over by the cold winter night.
“Mr. Windham, long time no see," she had said back then at a similar soirée.
What if he had responded gently with a "long time no see"? Would things have turned out differently?
Izabella, in her red dress, was the center of attention. It was undeniable that she was stunning, not only in looks but in her radiating confidence and pride.
How had he let such a dazzling Izabella slip away?
Now Izabella had found her place again, but she didn't want him anymore.
Brett grunted and turned away. His hand shook and the glass fell, shattering into pieces. His bodyguard quickly steadied him, preventing him from falling with the glass.
Blood trickled from the corner of his
mouth. Brett was wearing a black suit that day. He raised his sleeve to wipe away the blood. The stain wasn't noticeable against the dark fabric.
Izabella had always liked black suits. The tie around his neck was a gift from Izabella. After her death, he had kept all her gifts.
Now, the tie felt like a hand strangling him, making it hard for him to breathe.
Izabella had said she liked men in black suits because they looked serious and stern.
He had worn one, but she hadn't given him a second glance.
Instead, her attention was fixed on Casey, who was wearing a white suit.RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only
Izabella didn't care about the type or style of clothes. She would like anything worn by the man she loved.
Izabella, in her red dress, stood next to Casey in his white suit, making her stand out even more.
Brett covered his mouth, suppressing a cough. His body trembled. Liam stood behind him, shielding him from the crowd.
The sound of the shattered glass had drawn some attention, and a waiter hurried over to clean up.
Brett's bodyguard guided him to a secluded corner to sit down, supporting him all the while.
If Izabella was the most brilliant star in tonight's sky, then he was like a candle wick on the verge of burning out, just a gentle gust of wind away from disappearing entirely. Izabella's gaze fell upon him, and naturally, so did Casey's.
"Why is he here?" Izabella asked instinctively, only realizing after the words left her mouth that Brett had every right to be at this kind of banquet. After all, he was closely related to Bunny.
The sight of Brett always stirred up a sense of foreboding in Izabella.
Perhaps it was the scars left on her from their past life, that made her intuitively feel this man was dangerous.
Izabella couldn't help but recall the words Brett had spoken to her at the hospital that day.
He had said that he would prove to
her that once again, she had misjudged. That the Dempsey family wasn't where she belonged, and compared to Casey, he was a better match for her.
But how did Brett plan to prove it?