Resent, Reject, Regret

Chapter 47 I Want to See Brendan Brighthall!

Deirdre was on the verge of breaking down. She shoved the doctor away, but being blind, she tripped over the table leg and fell forward.

Her bandage turned a deep shade of red. The doctor hurried toward her, alarmed , but Deirdre scrambled to her feet and hurtled again, her pain forgotten.

The bodyguard quickly realized something was amiss. Yanking her by the arm, he cried, “What now?!”

Deirdre shrieked, “Let me go! Let me go right now! I want to go out!” “No way, princess!” came the thundering reply. The bodyguard did not even frown, nor did he see the need to be gentler. “Mr. Brighthall has explicitly forbidden you to step outside the house!” His force against Deirdre caused the wound on her neck to tear open again. Blood was pouring out… again. The doctor panicked. “Pin her down and don’t let her move any more! If this keeps up, she’s gonna have to return to the operating table!”

The bodyguards were immediately mobilized. One yanked her by the hair and pressed her against the table, pinning her arms with his arm as though he was apprehending a

criminal. It did not matter if her dignity was compromised.

The force was so great that Deirdre thought her face was flattened. The doctor did not seem to care if she was in pain either; all he cared about was how he would finally address her wound and stop the bleeding.

shoulders trembled,

was living without dignity. Even after quarantining her at home like livestock in a coop, Brendan still could not find it in him to spare Sterling

man’s life was over! His dreams? His future? All gone! He would never be able to live in Neve without people looking down on him. Nobody would trust him as a

thought. She wished she could jump off a building right now. She wished she had died sooner. She wished she had died in

wouldn’t harm Sterling anymore! He

God, this woman was

you brain dead or what? If

then jump in front of Mr. Brighthall! No one will have to stop you then! But now? Goddamn it, we’re all gonna die because of your endless drama, ma’am! If Mr. Brighthall knew your wound

it’s infuriating that an ugly dumb b*tch like you keeps causing all this drama. Honestly, what else can

stop! Remember last time? She played with a knife and cut her neck, and we lost half of our annual pay! If

continued their back-and-forth, their voices dripping with sarcasm and mockery. Any spirit she had in her eyes died, and she cast her eyes down as her heart sank. The

“I want