Resent, Reject, Regret

Chapter 905

Chapter 905 No Man Could Suffer This

Deirdre emerged from her room, causing Mrs. Engel’s eyes to twinkle before she immediately rushed to greet her. “Mrs. BrighthaII! You’re here!”

Brendan immediately pulled his arm out of Charlene’s.

Charlene glowered. She finally had the chance to be alone with Brendan before this b*tch decided to ruin it!

Not that she could point her fingers right now. Deirdre was bearing Brendan’s child. It was only normal that the man was disinclined to show any sign of intimacy with her while the woman he impregnated was standing right there.

Thus, Charlene launched back into her well-practiced pretense. “Aren’t you feeling unwell, Miss McKinnon? Why are you here?”

Deirdre descended the stairs with Mrs. Engel’s help and curled the corner of her lips. “I got hungry just like you, Miss McKinney. After all, I’m pregnant,” she replied. “Besides, this is your first meal since coming to my house, and it’d be so unbecoming and improper of me not to join in.”

Her smile screamed deliberation. She was advertising, right on Charlene’s face, that she was the mistress of the property-her manner and word choices were calculated! Even the timing of her arrival was meant to dump a bucket of ice all over Charlene’s perfect chance to be intimate with Brendan!

Charlene’s rage almost twisted her features, but she could not let even a fraction of her scowl show while Brendan was still there. She gritted her teeth to stop herself from acting out and forced a smile. “Your commitment to courtesy is surprising, Miss McKinnon! Now you’re making me blush. I guess I should learn something from you before Brendan starts making small, unhappy sounds whenever I

fumble a little as the house host in the near future.” “It’s okay. No need to be flustered. Manners and etiquette aren’t things you can learn in a few days, Miss McKinney, but I’m happy to teach you during your stay. I’m going to need you to help entertain our guests when the baby’s out, and I need to recuperate.”

Deirdre’s reply would sound cordial only if one ignored its undertone:’ You’ll never get to be anybody worth a damn as long as I’m here. In fact, you’re even going to be my glorified maid once my baby’s out.’

It felt as though someone had jabbed thorns into Charlene’s ears. “What’s that supposed to mean? I thought you’d leave after the baby’s born.”

Deirdre raised her spoon and seemingly mused for a moment. “No, it depends on how much you’ll allow me to stay. A woman still needs to recuperate after giving birth, right? And since I’ve gotten so used to being here… Of course, if you don’t like me, I guess I’ll have to look elsewhere.”

Charlene’s smile did not even reach her eyes. ‘That depends.” Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Deirdre’s attitude irked her. That b*tch had the audacity to egg her on just because she had a bun in the oven? F*ck off!

Brendan was going to marry her and let her stay in the mansion, though, was he not? And as soon as she slept with him-and got their child together -Deirdre would lose whatever meager attention Brendan had for her already. She would be as relevant as a piece of used rag!

The thought gave Charlene solace. She began her performance anew, cutting pieces of ribs for Brendan while squeezing in as many overtly suggestive movements as many times as she could.

Brendan left the pieces she cut aside without explicitly accepting or rejecting them. After Mrs. Engel set a bowl of steaming soup at the table, he filled a bowl and offered it to Deirdre.

“I don’t want it,” Deirdre snapped, looking away. Hostility filled her face. “I don’t need it. Pumpkin soups disgust me!”

Charlene watched the drama unfold in gleeful interest. She thought Deirdre had decided to give up on any semblance of agency in exchange for a comfortable life, but her assumption seemed to be wrong, after all. There was still a line she would not let Brendan cross, and Charlene was that line. Her presence still managed to anger Deirdre into lashing out in public.

But everyone knew that lashing out at a man in public was taboo. No man could possibly suffer a blow to their ego!

Just as Charlene expected, Brendan’s visage turned cold. He might have stopped himself for the sake of their child. “Just finish this one, and you can go,” he grumbled.

“No!”

The two of them began to push the bowl back and forth until, finally, it flipped, shattered, and spilled its content to the floor.