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When Love Turns Cold, I Let Go Novel Cover

When Love Turns Cold, I Let Go

Brigitta traveled through time thrice, only for her love for Damien to end in bitter hatred. Each time, his mistress, Irene, died on their wedding day, leaving Brigitta to face Damien's brutal vengeance. After surviving decades of torture, physical ruin, and cold abandonment across three lifetimes, Brigitta wakes up three days before her fourth wedding. Refusing to suffer another tragic cycle, she tears off her gown and calls Irene with a simple message: the wedding is off.
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Chapter 8

Brigitta reached out, trying to clutch Damien’s trousers.

“Help me…” She felt her ribs were broken and even breathing caused her pain.

Damien crouched in front of her, looking down at Brigitta coldly and grabbed her chin with his hand. “Where did you hide Irene? Speak!”

The pain forced tears from her eyes. Weakly, she whispered, “I didn’t… I didn’t hide her.”

Damien’s rage boiled over. “Still denying it? Irene’s last call for help said her kidnappers were your people. She tried to kill herself because they forced her!"

"How could you be so cruel? You're trying to take her life too?" He then barked an order, "One of you come here! Tie her up!”

Brigitta couldn't understand... why did things came early in this lifetime? Why she still couldn't escape the effect of Irene’s suicide attempt?

Her body ached unbearably and her old wounds had reopened and were bleeding continuously. Brigitta looked at Damien with plea. “Please... take me to the hospital. I need treatment.”

Damien shoved her hand away as she grabbed for his arm, brushing his sleeve as though she dirtied it.

“Unless you tell me where Irene is, I’ll let you die right here before I ever take you to a hospital.”

Black-clad bodyguards closed in. Their leader bowed nervously.

“Sir Damien… if Sir Lucien finds out we staged this car accident, we’ll all be finished. And if we’re seen abducting Miss Brigitta, the Holmund Family won’t stand for it—”

Damien glared at the man angrily. “Shut up. I'll protect you no matter what happens. Do as I say!”

The others dared not say another word and dragged Brigitta to her feet.

“Don’t… touch me!”

Brigitta despised the touch of strangers, let alone several unfamiliar men. A sense of humiliation spread throughout her body.

Damien saw the reaction and stepped closer to grab her by the throat.

“Why act so delicate now, Gitta? When you staged that crash and kidnapped Irene, did you even think about this? You’ve got scratches at most, while she’s out there suffering God knows what.”

Damien ordered his men to tie her up, gag her and throw her into the back of the truck. The vehicle soon sped down the road.

Brigitta fought nausea, her tears blurring with despair. She prayed—prayed that someone would come for her.

After what felt like hours, the car screeched to a stop in front of an old and worn warehouse.

She was dragged out of the car. The pain in her body made it impossible for her to walk and she fell directly to the ground. The motion made her stomach churn violently and she vomited.

Damien got out of his car and stepped back in disgust when he saw that.

“You're putting quite the performance! But unless you tell me where Irene is, I don’t care how pitiful you act—you’re not leaving this place.”

They dragged her inside the warehouse. Her legs scraped against the concrete until they bled.

"I might die here," Brigitta mouthed in despair.

Damien took out his phone and threw it on the ground. “Call your people and tell them to release Irene and we’ll trade with you."

He added, "Do it quick! She’s pregnant! If anything happens to her or the baby, I won’t spare you.”

Brigitta trembled as she picked up the phone from the ground and dialed the familiar number.

After a few rings, a deep male voice answered. “Who is this?”

The moment the call connected, a sob escaped her lips, “Kass, save me...”

Before she could finish, Damien ripped the phone from her hand and smashed it on the floor. “Who was that?!”

Brigitta glared at him in silence, hatred burned in her eyes.

His vision reddened with fury. He loomed over her, pointing at the shattered phone. “Tell me who he is! You've hooked up with someone else so quickly? Brigitta, you never cease to disgust me.”

Damien lashed out at the silence. He kicked over a nearby motorbike with a crash. “Not saying anything, are you? Then we’ll just wait here!”

Time passed slowly and Brigitta felt her life slipping away.

She suddenly thought of the unfinished business from her three lifetimes, the dreams she had pursued.

She truly wanted to explore the Lost City Thalasson herself, to witness that ancient civilizaiton, to leave her mark in history.

It felt quite frustrating…

At that moment, Brigitta coughed up another mouthful of blood.

He stood up and walked toward Brigitta, his hand about to touch her, when he was interrupted by his men’s voice.

“Sir Damien! We found Ms. Kemmer!”

A guard rushed in, breathless. “She’s shaken and twisted her ankle. Should we take her to the hospital?”

Damien’s head snapped up. He strode away instantly. “Everyone, follow me and save Irene. Now!”

The guard hesitated. “But, sir… Miss Holmund looks gravely injured. Sir Lucien values her so much, shouldn’t we take her to a hospital too?”

Damien glanced back at Brigitta, who was lying on the ground, bound and gagged.

“She won’t die. Leave her here. Let her learn her lesson,” he said coldly.

Moments later, the engines outside the warehouse roared to life. The convoy pulled away and silence swallowed the warehouse.

Brigitta didn’t even have the strength to get up. She crawled toward the phone Damien had thrown to the ground, but it was already broken.

At that moment, a few drunks carrying beer bottles passed by. They saw the barely conscious Brigitta.

“Damn, there’s a person lying here—a woman!”

One of the drunks stumbled over to her, drunkenly examining her face. “Guys, this woman is really pretty!”

“We’ve hit the jackpot today! Let’s have some fun with her.” After saying that, one of the drunken men began to take off his pants.

They ripped at her clothes. Brigitta fought with the last of her strength against them.

One man yanked her hair, slapping her hard. “Just stay still, bitch, or I’ll kill you!”

Her blouse tore apart. She screamed in humiliation, wildly waving her hands to protect herself and closed her eyes in despair.

Bang!

A gunshot. Then a man’s agonizing screams.

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