Resent Reject Regret by Aqua Summers novel Chapter 871

Chapter 871 Make Her Suffer

A faint smile shadowed Brendan’s lips. “Thank you.”

He meant it.

Madame Brighthall said nothing. She left.

But the controversy did not end there. Mr. Jensen’s speech had kicked up a storm. As

Brendan shut his laptop, Sam remarked, “I have a feeling Mr. Jensen planned all of

this down to the little speech he gave. He even had pictures of Miss McKinnon living

in the villa so he could strike at the affair’s angle.” “It’s that coward’s only way to stay

alive after the grave he dug,” Brendan growled frigidly. The pain seemed to be drilling

into his temple, emboldened by the sheer torrent of imbroglios that were all rebelling

against Brendan’s control.

“And Deirdre?” “Miss McKinnon should be released today, but… I think she’s still in

there.” “I see. I’ll be going to see her then. She must be so scared.”

It was the afternoon. A young woman caressed the clothes she had been folding and

waited for the police. The door opened, and she heard her name. “McKinnon?”

She rose, taking the clothes with her, and followed the police. Instead of heading

toward the station’s entrance, the police officer led her to a room full of suspects and

closed her inside.

‘Wait!” she cried, shackling against the bars in shock. “I thought I was supposed to be

released today!” “After Charli McKinsey accused you of homicidal intent and the

whole Internet storm you spawned, you really think we’re gonna let you out? As if!

Nobody’s leaving until someone gets to the bottom of this. In the meantime, you’re

staying with them. Maybe then you’ll learn some discipline.”

Deirdre’s heart sank. An Internet storm? What was that supposed to mean?

She hardly had the chance to press on. The police left her clinging to the bars-its

metal nipping to the skin-until she turned around and saw a crowd of humanoid

silhouettes encircling her.

“So, that’s the Deirdre McKinnon I’ve been hearing so much about? No wonder she

got to stay in that private suite in this sh*thole. I know you’re Brendan Brighthall’s