Twisted Ties of Love novel Chapter 548

Izabella only raised the corner of her mouth slightly when she heard the old butler say this, a subtle gesture that was nearly imperceptible from the side.

Sure, Brett had it rough, but there were plenty who had it worse. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, a cut above the rest from the get-go. Could that really be considered a tough life?

Take Casey, for instance. Mistakenly switched at birth with the Windham family, he ended up as a servant's child, enduring beatings and torture daily. When necessary, he even had to take his employer's place in the face of death.

The old butler, oblivious to Izabella's brewing emotions, continued, "He's been alone since his parents passed when he was little. The Windham family is far from average, and he's grown up in a dangerous world. He's sensitive, insecure, lacking in love. Maybe he's done some things you can't forgive, but I believe he has deep feelings for you. After all, you're the first woman he brought home."

Lacking in love – she had heard this before. Liam had said the same, imploring her to forgive Brett, insisting he didn't understand love.

Using a lack of love as an excuse for hurting others – where did one find the audacity?

It all boiled down to the abuser playing the victim, and the victim being blamed.

As she pondered, Izabella couldn't help but retort with biting sarcasm, "A man in his thirties still lacking love? Maybe he should call me mom, and I'll love him properly."

That comment left the old butler stunned. He had not expected such sharp words from the seemingly gentle girl, who had been nothing but polite moments ago.

The scorn on Izabella's face was unmasked, her beautiful eyes flashing cold as knives.

The butler, lost for words and sensing he'd hit a nerve with his casual remarks, realized it wasn't the words that upset her, but the person they concerned. Izabella was displeased with Brett.

Just then, Brett came out of the washroom, and coincidentally, he overheard Izabella's motherly offer.

As the awkward silence ensued, Brett broke the ice. The butler swiftly changed the subject, noticing Brett's pallor and asking with concern, "Mr. Windham, you're quite pale. Are you alright?"

Brett, face void of color, replied, "Just a bit of a cold from the weather turning."

The butler wasn't convinced. "I'll have the kitchen whip up some ginger tea. Drink plenty, and a good night's sleep should do the trick. The temperature's dropped quickly here in J City. If you're not better soon, we'll need a doctor."

"I appreciate it, Albin."

Among the Windhams, the old butler was more family to Brett than anyone else.

Brett was quite rebellious – brawling with siblings, covert conflicts, bloodied and bruised, even making Patrick vomit blood in frustration.

Spankings, standing in the corner, kneeling on hard surfaces, being locked away without food – these were common punishments. Yet it was the old butler who looked after him, speaking with him in secret, sneaking bread when he was locked up hungry, and teaching him life lessons after his parents had died.

"Don’t thank me, it's what I should do," said the butler, hobbling towards the kitchen. He couldn't shake his worry, subtly instructing the staff to keep an eye on the two to prevent any arguments.

Brett and Izabella didn't argue. One cold-faced, the other expressionless, Brett dusted off imaginary dirt from his thighs and sat across from Izabella on the sofa.

He coughed just now, and it caused a dull pain in his chest. He sipped the hot tea on the table, the warmth soothing the dull ache.

The pain of lung cancer wasn't more bearable than stomach cancer – both agonizing enough to induce vomiting blood. In its late stages, even breathing was torture; the chest inflated like a balloon, as if one sharp needle would cause an explosive, bloody burst.

Brett was accustomed to enduring pain silently. Even with internal agony, he casually remarked to Izabella, "I heard you say you wanted to be my mom right as I walked in."

Caught off guard, Izabella fell silent for a moment before retorting, "What can I say when everyone keeps telling me you're lacking love?"

"I'm not lacking love," he replied. Someone had loved him with their whole being for four solid years, filling the void of love in his life. He truly wasn't lacking; sadly, he'd repaid kindness with cruelty, hurting the one who loved him most.

Izabella met Brett's gaze evenly. She'd expected him to lash out at her comment, but to her surprise, he seemed indifferent, even taking her words as a joke.