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

gazed down

her long black hair spilling over the pillow, framing her exhausted, fragile face. The sight stirred within him a powerful urge to possess her completely. "You haven't eaten or drunk anything since you arrived. If you keep this up, your body won't be able to take it," Christopher said as he set the tray

cool, firm

slowly moved upward. His voice was hoarse,

help. Why torture yourself like this? You don't want to die, and you're always thinking about escaping from me. So shouldn't you take

eyes gleaming as her

unable to move. What

you're trying to

You're using reverse psychology on me, hoping I'll stop giving you anesthetics so you can find a way to resist me and

tremble in fear. Startled, he clenched his teeth and withdrew his hand, though the desire to have her burned within

said through gritted teeth, her nose flaring with hatred as she refused to even look

she finished speaking, she suddenly felt lightheaded. Christopher grabbed her waist and pulled her into a tight

Christopher's smile was soft as he

hatred in her eyes, they might have seemed

I