Novel Name : Resent, Reject, Regret

Resent, Reject, Regret Resent Reject, Regret By Aqua Summers Chapter 284

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Chapter 284 You’re A Cutthroat

Deirdre was writhing despite their hold as she whimpered unintelligibly. Brendan realized what was

going on with her and picked up the phone, his pain forgotten as he yelled, “Stop! You’re hurting her!”

The cops met his eyes and loosened their grip, causing Deirdre to fall forward on the floor. Her eyes

were unfocused, as though the sheer magnitude of her sorrow had made it impossible to pay any

attention.” You’re a cutthroat, Brendan. You’re so good at it, aren’t you?” she croaked tearfully.

He had treated her love for him as an invitation to use and abuse her. Then, even after all the sins he

had committed, he had squawked about pretending none of this had happened. It was all… for nothing.

He had always been openly disdainful of her love back then. As it turned out, he was still spitting on it

right now.

No one abused others quite like Brendan. No one.

Deirdre’s heart had turned cold. No, it was broken-shattered and trampled by the b*stard yelling into

the phone behind the window. Her face had turned expressionless.

She ignored what sounded like Brendan’s incessant shouts on the phone and felt along the wall. Then,

trembling, she made her way out of the cell.

Brendan sank into his chair, his face as white as a sheet. It was the cop beside him who noticed his

state and called an ambulance.

By the time Madame Brighthall heard the news, Brendan had just gotten a blood transfusion. She

trained a shaking finger on the sickly man, bellowing, “Have you lost your mind?! That vixen plotted to

imprison you-she wants you dead! But what did you do after you finally recovered from your injury

slightly? You went to see her again! Do you have a death wish, huh? What kind of son did I even bring

into this world?!” Brendan shut his eyes. His lips were pale.

Charlene watched him from the side with her hands clenched into fists. She had never imagined

Brendan would care so much about that b*tch one day that he would willingly endure agony or the

possibility of death to see her!

Before she could chime in, Madame Brighthall erupted again. “While you mulishly insist on making this

whole incident go away, that vixen insists on destroying you and Lena! That’s it! I forbid you to get

involved in this entire ordeal! We have lawyers for this sort of drama, and Lord knows she’s definitely

getting incarcerated for the res-”

“No!” Brendan suddenly yelled, becoming active again. His voice came out as a whisper more than a

shout, but his eyes revealed an almost monkish conviction. “She’s not going to be incarcerated-not on

my watch!”

Madame Brighthall was incredulous. “You idiot! You’re still trying to protect her?!”

Charlene could not stop herself any longer. “Bren, wake up! Your injury isn’t the issue right now-it’s

Miss McKinnon! She’s the one who’s spitting on our goodwill to settle things outside of court! She’s the

one who insists on dragging us through hell with her! Why is it such a bad idea to send her to prison for

a few months? The reality of imprisonment will calm her down, and then we could bail her out again!”

Brendan’s expression darkened. Bile rose in his throat, but he suppressed it. His eyes zeroed in on

Charlene’s face, but there was nothing on his pale face but indifference. “I don’t blame Mom for not

understanding, but you too, Charlene? What’s your excuse? She went to jail back then because of you!

She lost her eyes while she was in there! But you…. you never showed even a modicum of regret for

your part in this. Your conscience is so unhurt that you’re okay with sending her to prison again! What

else do

you want to ruin her?”

Charlene’s face turned white. Madame Brighthall looked troubled too, but she steeled herself and

argued, “Don’t take your steam out on Lena, Bren! She saved your life!”

“Yes. She saved my life.” Brendan clenched his hands into fists, his eyes hopeless and desolated. “And

I destroyed Deirdre’s.”

He remembered how broken Deirdre had been. The murderous intent in her eyes had felt like being

stabbed by a twisting knife. He closed his eyes, feeling fatigued, and murmured, “She’s not going to jail

again. Period. I’ll work hard to talk her out of it, so leave this issue alone… both of you.”

It was not true. For the rest of the week, Brendan had been denied an audience with Deirdre

completely. Knowing he could not force a meeting, he sought Sam’s help.

“You go.”

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