The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

Bella's phone had long since disappeared, and there was no television or computer in the room. She had no idea how many days had passed since she arrived on this isolated island. The heavy doses of anesthetics injected into her had left her awake but paralyzed from the neck down, rendering her a beautiful yet despairing living corpse.

The luxurious, cold room was suffocatingly silent, so much so that not even the sound of wind or waves could be heard, which showed that the house was a considerable distance from the sea. This was Christopher's meticulously crafted prison for her.

Bella's delicate body lay on the bed, her original clothes long gone, replaced with a thin red lace nightgown, making her appear like a vibrant yet sorrowful rose-alive but slowly withering away. The nightgown was changed for her by the maids on the island.

Although Christopher was ruthless and brutal to everyone else, he had never physically forced himself on Bella, refraining from taking her by force.

He truly loved her to the core, and he could not bear to see her cry.

Bella lay motionless, staring out the window. The orange-red sunset gradually dimmed, and as the sun set, the color drained from her pale, delicate face, leaving only a heartbreaking pallor.

She closed her swollen, sore eyes, tears welling up, but she bit down hard to stop them from falling.

She did not know how much time had passed when she heard the door open, followed by the familiar sound of cold, steady footsteps approaching.

"Bella, it's time to eat," Christopher said softly, carrying a tray to the bedside, his voice gentle. "I made this myself; everything is your favorite."

Bella turned her pale face away from him.

her body recoiled in disgust and resistance at his

down

haven't eaten or drunk anything since

firm hand grasped

as it slowly moved upward. His voice was

this? You don't want to die, and you're always thinking about

scoffed, her red eyes gleaming as her parched

corpse now, unable to move. What difference does it

trying to

using reverse psychology on me, hoping I'll stop giving you anesthetics so you can find a way to resist me and escape. Bella, if I could, I wouldn't use drugs on you. But you're

her body tremble in fear. Startled, he clenched his teeth and withdrew his hand, though the desire

flaring with hatred as she refused to even look at him. "I won't eat it. Now leave. I don't

lightheaded. Christopher

have some soup, okay?" Christopher's smile was soft as he leaned

one ignored the hatred in her eyes, they might have seemed like

I caught the