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.

eat," Christopher said softly, carrying a tray to the bedside, his

her pale face away

every nerve in her body

down at

silk nightgown clung to her delicate, voluptuous figure, 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

slender ankle trembling as it slowly moved upward. His voice was hoarse, tinged with

at 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 you take care

scoffed, her red eyes gleaming as her

What difference does it make if

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 use drugs on you. But you're too clever. If I'm not

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

hatred as