Resent Reject, Regret By Aqua Summers Chapter 105


    Chapter 105 You’ll Regret This One Day


    Night City?


    Deirdre was aghast. As a local of this city, she knew exactly where this was. It was an entertainment


    establishment on the outside, but it was more of a sanctuary for the rich and powerful. Nothing was off-


    limits within Night City as long as nobody


    died.


    N?velDrama.Org ? content.


    Her face turned pale. “Why did you bring me here, Brendan?” she cried as she struggled to wriggle


    herself free.


    Brendan could not possibly let her go so easily. His fingernails burrowed into her wrist like shackles. He


    yanked her close to himself and whispered, “Toote, Deirdre. You almost cost Lena her life. That isn’t


    something I’m gonna handwave away.”


    “But I didn’t!”


    Brendan shot her an icy re. It had been three days, yet she still held onto her lie. He loosened his


    grip suddenly and said, “You wanna leave here, go ahead. I just wonder what’s gonna happen to


    Sterling if you go.”


    Deirdre was stopped dead in the middle of her bid to run away. Her chest ached as though someone


    was tearing it open with their bare hands. Her eyes reddened as she cried, “You’re cruel.”


    Brendan sneered. “Nowhere as adept in cruelty as you are, Deirdre. You would do anything to nder


    Lena, even hurting yourself.”


    Deirdre clenched her fists before looking up to meet his scornful smirk with despair. “ One day, when


    you realize that Charlene is behind all of this… Will you regret all that you’ve done?”


    Brendan felt as though his heart was being yanked from under its feet. “That day will nevere


    because it isn’t true! Charlene doesn’t concoct schemes. As for me?”


    He loomed close to Deirdre and fixed his eyes straight through her face. He enunciated every single


    word emphatically, “I don’t have regrets. Ever!”


    “Okay.” She smiled. “You’ll regret nothing.”


    Every second of that smile drove Brendan up the wall. He turned on his heels, avoiding it, and barked,


    “Come on!”


    Deirdre lowered her head and followed him obediently inside. They entered one of


    the establishment’s VIP rooms, where booming rave music came straight at them as


    soon as the door was opened. The music waster turned off, but much of its initial merriment


    remained. Deirdre could hear giggles and snickers from both men and


    women.


    Someone rose to their feet. “Mr. Brighthall, wee, wee! I honestly thought you wouldn’te!


    Guys, give him his seat, please…”


    It was then that he saw the woman tailing him.


    She looked like a nightmare, especially when illuminated by the club’s lighting. He froze for a moment


    before asking gingerly, “Er, who is this?”


    Brendan gave a cruel smirk. “I’ve been feeling under the weathertely, so I brought someone to drink


    in my stead. Hope you don’t mind.”


    “God, who would even mind that? We’re stoked just to have you grace us with your presence!” the man


    replied. “Come on, here’s your seat!”


    The crowd was positively ingratiating in how they ushered Brendan to his seat. Deirdre was left by the


    door, rigid and awkward as a statue, without anyone sparing her even a nce.


    This was the kind of ce where only those who thrived on their ability to read the room and chose


    their allegiance could gather. Naturally, they noticed Brendan’s contempt when looking at her and made


    their verdict.


    One of the women dragged a stool from somewhere and ced it in front of Deirdre. “Sorry, man,” she


    said while holding back herughter. “There are too many of us here. You could sit here.”


    Deirdre crouched low and felt for her “seat”. It was ced in a corner so crowded she could not even


    spread her legs as she sat on that ufortably low stool.


    The crowd began tough. “Aww, Mr. Brighthall, you even brought us a party clown! You shouldn’t


    have!”


    Deirdre had grown used to mockery and scorn by this point, and yet she still found the simple act of


    raising her head a challenge. The force of humiliation itself seemed to be weighing on her neck.


    Wine and women were fun and pleasing to any rich young man, but the crowd soon grew a little weary


    of it. One of them-a young man wearing an extravagant ne around his neck-decided to have fun


    with the novelty item in the room. He prepared a bomb shot and ced it in front of Deirdre.