Ex-Husband’s Regret Barren Mommy Has Quadruplets By Dolly Molly

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.

Christopher gazed down at her.

The 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 up, your body won't be able to take it," Christopher said as he set the tray on the bedside table and sat beside her.

His cool, firm hand grasped her

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

"Getting angry 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 of yourself, eat well, and stay strong?" "Heh..." Bella scoffed, her red eyes gleaming as her parched lips curled into a bitter smile.

"I'm like a living corpse now, unable to move. What difference does it make if I eat or not?" "Bella, you're trying to manipulate

me." Christopher chuckled, his eyes filled with love, "We've grown up together, 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 use drugs on you. But you're too clever. If I'm not careful, you'll find a way to escape. I've risked everything to have you, and I can't lose you. Never!"

As his hand reached beneath her gown, he felt her body tremble in fear. Startled, he clenched his teeth and withdrew his hand, though the desire to have her burned within him.

"The food you made looks like shit to me," Bella said through gritted teeth, her nose flaring with hatred as she refused to even look at him. "I won't eat it. Now leave. I don't want to see you!"

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

"Just have some soup, okay?" Christopher's smile was soft as he leaned his forehead against hers, their noses touching.

If one ignored the hatred in her eyes, they might have seemed like a pair of inseparable lovers.

"It's fish soup I caught the fish this

morning and prepared it fresh. Do you remember when we were kids? You took me to the lake at Yara Park to catch fish. The sight of you in those little red rain boots, wading

fish,

into the water to catcas

been etched in my heart

since...

I'll never forget it."

To Bella, his affectionate words only made her stomach churn.

Christopher gently rubbed her

cracked lips with his thumb, his heart

aching for her, "You must be so

thirsty: Let me give you some water

first."

He picked up a cup, placed the rim against her lips, and began to pour water into her mouth.