Resent, Reject, Regret

Chapter 903

Chapter 903 Seize This Chance

“Here’s the thing. We don’t give a damn who you’ll end up marrying, but since we’ll be staying together for a while, let me give you a piece of advice,” Deirdre said a little apathetically. “Mrs. Engel is going to be your housekeeper and your cook. That means she has plenty of chances to surprise you, don’t you think?” Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Mrs. Engel caught on. “She’s right, Miss McKinney. Protecting yourself against obvious enemies is one thing, but against someone who you depend on? It would be easy for me to place some pins on your pillow… Or spit in your filet…”

Charlene’s expression darkened before the older woman finished. “You dare!?”

Mrs. Engel shot a disgusted glare. “What’s stopping me? I’ll quit once Miss McKinnon leaves anyway. You don’t even know where my home is. I am not scared of your petty payback!”

Charlene gnashed her teeth for a while before her ire subsided a little. She glared daggers at Deirdre and turned her umbrage back against the latter.” You turn being a doormat into an art form, huh? You’re looking at the one who murdered your mom right now, and your reaction is, ‘Alright. Cool, cool.’ “Aren’t you going to push me down the stairs and check in at the detainment center for another alternative vacation?”

Mentioning Ophelia turned Deirdre’s face pale. She set her eyes at Charlene as though she was seeing through her. “Your judgment day is coming, Charlene. One day, justice will come for you.”

Charlene’s first instinct was to laugh, but Deirdre’s glare was so cutting that it made her sneer “b*tch!” under her breath. She curled the corner of her lips and smiled. “I don’t know what judgment that’s supposed to be, but I know that once your kid’s born, they aren’t going to be with you. In fact, they are going to call me ‘mom’ instead of you.”

Just like that, Charlene strutted upstairs, her hips swinging in selfsatisfaction. A moment later, one could hear her question aloud which room belonged to her.

Mrs. Engel thought to ignore her, but Deirdre clapped on the back of the older woman’s hand as a hint.

Mrs. Engel forced herself to answer Charlene’s call, though she deliberately offered the one farthest from Brendan’s room. Naturally, Charlene insisted snobbily on living in the room next to Brendan’s and accepted nothing else.

After keeping the room tidy and clean, and Charlene strode in to claim her territory, Mrs. Engel descended the stairs anxiously. “Why did Mr. Brighthall invite a woman this vile here? This is outrageous and unacceptable! This is unfair to Miss McKinnon!”

Deirdre stared into space for a few seconds and snapped back to reality.” Mrs. Engel, I know I’ve told you about this enough, but this time, you need to do as I say,” she advised solemnly. “Charlene is not someone you can cross without consequences, so it’s best you don’t get her way. She could strut and act like she’s above me, but she’s explicitly forbidden from harming me because of my pregnancy. But you, Mrs. Engel… You don’t have that kind of protection.”

Mrs. Engel knew Deirdre was simply expressing concern for her well-being under this new order. “But I just- God, I can’t stand that vixen! She’s the man-stealer! She has no right to… And Mr. Brighthall, too. God, he disappoints me.”

Deirdre’s eyes darkened. “It hardly bothers me. I’ll have nothing to do with Brendan after the child’s born.”

Charlene closed the door only after she heard the entirety of their conversation. The real reason Charlene was told to move here was pure calculation-it was part of Brendan’s effort to control the media and the narrative they waved. With Charlene here, the reporters would have the pictures they needed.

But the fact that Brendan was willing to play his part in this play-pretend, to Charlene, also meant he was at least no longer repulsed by her. This was the windfall she needed-she must seize this chance!

Her thoughts drifted to Deirdre, and Charlene felt a surge of jealousy. But she could not afford any reckless move before she could possess

Brendan’s heart.

Brendan emerged from the front door after dusk. His handsome features were caked in a thick coat of fatigue as he loosened his tie.

He stopped in mid-action, scanning the living room.

Mrs. Engel did not come to greet him, nor was there anyone on the couch. As the older woman strode out of the kitchen, he asked.