Twisted Ties of Love novel Chapter 547

With Nathaniel died behind bars, Brett was the most likely one to have come here.

Just as Albin was mulling over this revelation, a commotion stirred upstairs. His longtime domestic helper called out to him with urgency.

"Albin, Mr. Windham's back home - the eldest, Brett."

To outsiders, Brett was known as "President Windham," but within the walls of the household, he was either "Mr. Windham" because they had watched him grow from a boy to a man.

The old butler scurried outside, forgetting all about his usual aches and pains. It had been ages since he last saw Brett, at the solemn occasion of Patrick's funeral.

Brett hadn't changed much in appearance, but there was a striking difference in his demeanor. He now carried the same gravitas as Patrick had in his final, illness-stricken days.

The butler, initially overwhelmed with emotion, composed himself at the sight of Brett.

"Albin, it's been a while," Brett greeted.

With a deliberate pace, the butler approached and commented on Brett's thinness before turning his attention to the woman beside him, "And who might this young lady be?"

"She’s my girlfriend."

The word "girlfriend" stunned not only the butler but also the house staff who paused their work to stare in disbelief.

Everyone knew about Brett's beloved Izabella, who tragically perished in a Christmas Eve fire at the age of twenty-seven. She was Brett's ex-wife, the woman whose memory he couldn't escape.

After her death, Brett had wandered through life numb and lost for a year, even spending time in a psychiatric hospital for treatment of his mental breakdown.

Brett's love for Izabella had only become known to all after her death.

Now, six years later, Brett suddenly returned with a woman he introduced as his girlfriend. The surprise was palpable.

The staff exchanged curious glances, trying to see clearly the woman capable of capturing Brett's heart.

The warmth of the heating inside made Izabella, who had been wrapped in a scarf, feel overheated. She removed the scarf and spoke with a detached tone, "I'm not his girlfriend."

Once the scarf was off, the butler squinted for a better look. Despite his age, his eyes were still sharp.

He couldn't help but think how much she resembled Brett's late ex-wife; surely, she must have been brought in as a stand-in.

"What should I call you, miss?" the butler asked respectfully.