I felt a sharp pain all over my internal organs, my eyes turned bloodshot, and I grabbed Isabella's hair like a madman and banged my head against the wall.
One after another, without mercy.
Isabella's face was covered in blood.
But she didn't care at all, smiling provocatively:
"You don't think you can avenge your daughter like this, do you? It's too early for me to tell you. This is just the beginning."
As she said that, Isabella pulled out a Voodoo doll full of needles from her pocket and threw it into the brazier.
Then he immediately knelt down in front of me, as if he had suffered a lot of injustice:
"Sister Sophia, I was wrong. Please don't curse the baby in my belly like this. He is innocent..."
Before I could react, I realized what she meant.
The next second, I was kicked out violently, my head hit the edge of the bed, and blood flowed down my forehead.
Alexander gently held Isabella in his arms. Her eyes were red, and she looked like she was going to faint in the next second.
"Sophia, it's okay for you to hurt me, but how could you be so vicious as to place such a curse on the baby in my belly!"
Before I could say anything, Alexander threw the Voodoo doll at my face.
"Sophia, how dare you!"
Only then did I notice that the Voodoo doll had Isabella's Birth chart and a portrait of a baby written on it.
I couldn't help but sneer.
What a crude frame-up, but he sentenced me to death without even asking any questions.
Seeing me like this, Alexander wanted to step forward and teach me a lesson, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed his daughter's remains and the toys left in the brazier, and he immediately became furious.
"What do you mean? You washed your daughter's photo white just to be jealous. Sophia, are you still qualified to be a mother?"
When I mentioned my daughter, I looked at him angrily with red eyes:
"Alexander, you are not allowed to mention my daughter, you murderer!"
Seeing my grief and anger, Alexander hesitated for a moment and was about to say something.
Isabella timidly huddled into his arms and whispered, "Brother Alexander, the photo is so scary. I'm scared...and the baby is scared too."
The man who had a calm expression just now suddenly became cold and hard.
He picked up his daughter's photo and showed a cruel expression.
I hurriedly shook my head and begged frantically:
"don't want--"
"Alexander, this is my daughter's only ..."
Before he could finish his words, he tore the portrait in half.
Looking at the incomplete photo of my daughter, my heart felt like it was cut in two.
Tears flowed unconsciously from the corners of my eyes: I looked at him fiercely: "Alexander, one day you will regret it, I'm waiting!"
The man sneered, "It's just a photo, I won't regret it!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Isabella behind him covered her stomach and screamed:
"ah--"
"What is this? It feels so yin that the fetus in my belly can't even breathe."
When I saw it was my daughter's urn, I rushed forward to grab it, but was pushed to the ground by Alexander.
When the man opened it and saw that it was ashes, he immediately scolded me:
"Sophia, did you do this on purpose?
"They made these disgusting things to scare Isabella and make her have a miscarriage!"
"Why didn't I realize before that you are so vicious!"
I bit my lips tightly, trying to suppress the hatred in my heart:
"Alexander, if you return my things to me, I will move out of the house and never bother you again."
Alexander frowned, "What do you mean by that? What do you mean by moving out?"
