Resent, Reject, Regret By Aqua Summers Chapter 41


    Chapter 41 Saving Herself for Sterling… And Sterling Only


    Any other emotions Brendan could have felt had been disced by unrelenting ire. “God, I’m going


    home. I’ll see her tomorrow.”


    That took Steven by surprise, but he nodded nheless. “Shall I drive you home now?”


    “No. Pass me the keys. I’ll drive.”


    He checked his suit and headed to the parking garage, almost a little too frantically.


    His car zipped through the road, tearing through the air like a fired bullet. When he arrived, he


    immediately scanned the living room. Resentment flitted past his eyes – he had thought that it would at


    least be lit.


    Because that would mean someone was waiting for him toe home.


    He checked himself. She was blind. Whether a room was


    lit or not did not matter. He was sure she would be reclining on the couch, just like she used to. Waiting.


    Brendan strode toward the door and pushed it open.


    The living room waspletely empty. Even the dining table was empty-devoid of the warm supper


    that was once her staple form of wee.


    The days when Deirdre would curl into herself at the edge of the couch at night, waiting for hours to


    see hime home, were over. Gone was the way her face used to light up gingerly, her bashful joy


    the moment he stepped into the house, and the way she sidled up to him sheepishly and asked if he


    was hungry.Exclusive content from N?velDrama.Org.


    An acute pang assaulted Brendan’s chest. His chest caved in, and he felt suffocated. In his mind, there


    was only one devil to me.


    Sterling f*cking Fuller. That son of a b*tch had reced him in her heart, and Brendan had never been


    more livid in his life.


    MT


    Deirdre had sworn that she loved him with all her heart. Ha! Was this the extent of her love? Was her


    love so dirt – cheap that any random man could arouse her supposedly profound love?! Brendan flung


    his coat to the floor and stormed upstairs. He then shoved the door open,


    Deirdre was already soundly asleep, but themotion freaked her out of her slumber. Panic crawled


    all over her features, and she tugged herforter even closer to herself, almost as though it would


    defend her against him.


    She was terrified. That disy of terror burned away any shred of reason Brendan had left.


    He lunged for her and pinned her under him. Deirdre’s


    face paled. “What are you doing?!”


    She iled her arms, putting up as much of a fight as she could to stop him from touching her. Enraged,


    Brendan locked her arms with a twist of his own, bellowing, “What now, b*tch?! I’m getting my end of


    the deal —what you owe me! Did you really think I brought you here just so you could leech off my


    goodwill?” A shrill cry was heard, along with the sound of fabric being ripped open. Deirdre’s nightgown


    was in pieces, and she shuddered in a rage. “I owe you nothing! We’re nothing! There’s nothing


    between us-and I’m only here because you forced me to! Don’t-touch-me!” “Why? So that Sterling


    can?” Malice filled Brendan’s eyes. “Sure, let that f*cker try. I’ll amputate both his arms and turn them


    into dog food!” Despair filled Deirdre. His tyranny left no space for reason and mercy, and tears now


    rolled out of her eyes. “Please, just let me go. Why can’t you just let me go? I’m a monstrosity , aren’t I?


    An affront to your eyes? Doesn’t doing this to me disgust you?! Charlene is right there for you! Just


    screw her instead, please… Spare me!” Brendan saw red. His blood was now boiling. Had he heard


    her right? Had she just told him to f*ck Charlene so she could be “spared”?! He felt his chest burning.


    His beet-red eyes were devoid ofmon sense even before he held Deirdre by the jaw


    with a grip closer to a chokehold. “You fighting me because you’re saving yourself for that son of a


    b*tch? F* ck you, Deirdre. You’re no Vestal Virgin-you’re a wh*re, and I ran through every inch of your


    body a long time ago! Me!”


    He castigated her mercilessly because she needed to be trampled and humiliated. She needed


    someone to carve the truth into her bones: He was the only man she would ever have.


    His violence-the growing force crushing around Deirdre’s wrist with each passing second in


    combination with the verbal abuse-only pushed Deirdre even more to the edge of a breakdown.


    “What the f*ck do you want from me, Brendan Brighthall?!” she screamed. “What more do you f*cking


    want from me?!”