Twisted Ties of Love novel Chapter 364

"Ms. Salotti, I'm afraid you have to personally handle this issue."

"What do you mean?" asked Izabella, her eyebrows slightly furrowed.

Liam explained, "Nikki has been holed up in Flower Garden ever since you passed away and never once ventured out. It throws a fit every time someone tries to take it out. President Windham and I are too wary to mess with it, so we need you to come over. Or how about we set a time tomorrow, and I arrange a driver to pick you up?"

Izabella's heart ached at the mention of Nikki. How was the foolish cat that tried to save her from the fire doing now? It refused to leave the villa; was it still remembering the words she said before she died, asking it to wait for her?

"No need for that; I'll go there myself. Tomorrow at 9:30 AM." Izabella hung up after saying that.

After the call, she felt her hair wet and sticky against her skin; it was uncomfortable. She then got a hairdryer from the closet.

The weather in July was the hottest of the year. Izabella was blowing her hair with the fan while using the hairdryer. The hairdryer only had a hot air setting, and it enveloped her hair in heat.

She looked at the lights outside the window, feeling uneasy, probably because she had to meet Brett Windham again tomorrow.

That night, Izabella couldn't sleep. She looked at the money in her account and planned what she would do next. First, she would find a partner to start a company, then acquire an economic company when she had a solid foundation.

Izabella hadn't signed the cancellation contract yet because the follow-up work would be troublesome.

The contract for "Blood Ties" was signed by the company. If she left now, she might not get to do the drama, and it could even lead to a lawsuit, which would delay the crew's progress.

But if she didn't leave, the company would continue to exploit her.

So the best way was to acquire the company's shares, become the largest shareholder, and not worry so much about it.

After breakfast the next day, Izabella called a cab to Flower Garden.

Three and a half years after her death, there was no change in Flower Garden; it was as if the fire happened yesterday.

She looked at the villa that had imprisoned her for nearly two years, especially the bedroom on the first floor with floor-to-ceiling windows. Although a long time had passed and the burned places have been renovated, she seemed to still see the unwashed blood stains and dust there when her gaze swept over them. Her toes involuntarily curled, feeling a sudden burn.

Physical wounds can heal, but how can those that hurt the soul heal?

Even after all these years, even though she had a new body, the pain she once suffered was an excruciating experience that would make her heartache whenever she thought of it.

She couldn't forgive Brett because the wounds she suffered in her last life were too severe, and she feared repeating the same mistakes.

After taking a deep breath, Izabella walked towards the villa. Although they were all in the same city, it was much cooler here in Flower Garden.

As Izabella walked with her head down, she felt a strange gaze and reflexively looked up. A tall figure directly entered her field of vision.

Brett was standing at the gate, wearing the white shirt Izabella liked.

As Izabella slowly approached him, her excellent vision allowed her to clearly see the reflection in his pupils.

After hesitating for a moment, Brett said, "Nothing here has changed." His eyes were full of deep affection, as if he wanted to bring up the past to evoke some beautiful memories from Izabella.

In fact, this place brought some happiness to Izabella.

During the time she lost her memory, Brett pretended to be good to her, and Tiara loved her like her own daughter. Although she didn't have children, she had a cat.

Brett looked pale, his voice trembling with weakness.

At 9:30 in the morning, the golden sun shone through the shade of the trees, the leaves swaying in the wind. Izabella's hair fluttered slightly in the wind; she was wearing a nude shirt and a white knee-length skirt; she looked as if she had walked out of a painting.

Carrying her bag, Izabella said contemptuously, "This place has always been the one I hated the most; you probably forgot that I was imprisoned here by you, sitting in a wheelchair, and burned alive by the fire."