Ex-Husband’s Regret: Barren Mommy Has Quadruplets

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.

Though she could not move, every nerve in her body recoiled in disgust and resistance at his presence.

down

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 on

cool, firm hand grasped

as it slowly moved upward. His

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

a living corpse now, unable to move. What difference does it make if I eat or

so no one knows you better than I do. You're 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

Startled, he

looks like shit to me," Bella said through gritted teeth, her nose flaring with hatred as she refused to even

lightheaded. Christopher grabbed her waist and pulled her into

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

eyes, they might have seemed like a pair

I

the lake at Yara Park to catch fish.

fish,