Resent, Reject, Regret

Chapter 908

Chapter 908 Ruining Others’ Rest This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

Deirdre opened her eyes from the noise and froze.

Brendan, too, heard it, but neither of them moved. Someone was knocking, not on Deirdre’s room but Brendan’s. It did not take a genius to know who this not-mysterious-knocker could be, given the timing at late night.

A while later, the confirmation came unprompted. “Bren? Bren! Are you asleep already?” Charlene urged.

“Now what?” Deirdre asked in an undertone. Brendan was in her room! If Charlene continued to knock, she would soon realize no one was inside.” God, you shouldn’t have come here!” “It’s going to be fine,” Brendan replied calmly before beckoning Deirdre to lean close.

Charlene went on knocking for a while despite nobody answering, and she started to grumble to herself. Brendan was famous for being a light sleeper, and he did not usually sleep this early in the night. Even if he did manage to fall asleep, all that noise she made should have woken him! Thus, why was there neither sound nor anyone answering the door?

She wanted to give up-especially when the night was this freezing. And yet, part of her was just too defiant to quit. She ended up adding even more force to her knocks.

The door opened-not Brendan’s but Deirdre’s.

Deirdre strode out and stared at Charlene with a look of smug contempt.” Gosh, Miss McKinney, what’s the urgency? People are trying to sleep at this hour! Even I had to get upto see who it was. Come on, disturbing people’s rest is something frowned upon by society, Miss McKinney. Surely you can do better than that!”

For a moment, surprise overcame Charlene’s features. Few things required as little explanation as a woman knocking on the door of a man at an hour like this, after all. Her surprise only lasted for a moment, though, before her well-practiced smile resumed.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, Miss McKinnon. Of course, I have a reason to look for Brendan at this hour… though it’d be in your best interest not to know what it is.” “Oh yeah?” Deirdre’s expression darkened. “Now that just makes me even more curious. What is this secret thing I shouldn’t know about?”

Charlene puffed up her breasts and walked past Deirdre’s door, her hips swinging. “It’s obviously something you can’t satisfy him,” she remarked sweetly. “We’re all grown-ups here, so you don’t really need me to spell it out for you, right? Brendan always used you in the past because he was worried he might hurt me. But now that you’re pregnant, someone has to fulfill his needs, right?”

She sniped a glance at Deirdre’s room despite herself. It did not look like someone was hiding under her sheet…

But her gut instinct was telling her something was fishy. Deirdre’s timing was too much of a coincidence. If her knocks managed to wake Deirdre, then how could they not put a dent in Brendan’s sleep?

Deirdre leaned against the frame of her door coolly. She cast her eyes down on the floor for two seconds before suddenly looking up at her, muttering, “I see. That sounds rough, Miss McKinney. Sorry for all the trouble my pregnancy has somehow inadvertently caused you. But at least I know why you were suddenly invited to stay in my house…”

Charlene was so furious her face turned ashen. Did Deirdre just insinuate she was nothing more than a prostitute!?

Her first reaction was to fire fiery curses, but she willed herself to calm down and smile coldly. “Is hurling personal attacks all you’re capable of, Miss McKinnon? I guess so. You don’t even seem capable of maintaining his loyalty despite bearing him an heir! Tragic details like these make it hard for me to see you as a legitimate rival.”

Suddenly, Brendan’s door opened. Charlene immediately turned.

His hair was matted. He was wearing a bathrobe barring his well-defined muscles. One could still see droplets of water glistening off his skin.

He must have just emerged from a shower.

Brendan shot an apathetic look at Deirdre before setting his attention on Charlene’s getup, causing the latter to put on her best coy pretense. She had put on the most seductive nightwear she could find-she was sure no straight male could resist it.

“I’m sorry, were you showering, Brendan?”