Chapter 702
Meeting Me Isn't Without Consequences
"Naturally, I'm very aware of whom you're working for. I know he's your boss. So, if you really can't help me, then just send me back home. I won't hold it against you,” said Deirdre despite already deciding to coerce Sam by capitalizing on his softr-heartness.
She was sure Brendan would never punish Sam too much, even if he disobeyed his boss a little, which meant she could stand to be more forceful and get what she wanted. And yet, in the end, she could not find it in her to do it. Sam had been nothing but kind and helpful to her-she could not let herself force this same man into a corner and use him as a means to her end.
"But you're just going to try to see Mr. Brighthall through some other way if I send you back home, right?”
Deirdre cast her eyes down. ‘You're not wrong.”
He sighed. "Christ. I guess... I guess I could ask Mr. Brighthall to agree, if nothing else. I'm not allowed to make my own decisions, but I can at least suggest something to him.”
He got out of the car and walked away.
Deirdre's heart began to race erratically. She was worried Brendan would reject her even as a large part of her dreaded seeing him too. By the time she snapped out of her panic, Sam was already getting back into the car." Miss McKinnon?"
She clenched her fists a little.
"I'll drive you there."
She was stunned. Then, she nodded. She had at least reached her goal.
As it turned out, Brendan was staying in a hotel nearby. Sam led Deirdre to the highest floor, gave her the directions, and said, "Mr. Brighthall wanted the meeting to be private, so you have to excuse me. You can knock on his door."
She nodded and approached Brendan's room.
A mixture of sentiments and emotions awakened. She had really thought she was never going to look for Brendan again, but now?
A quiet blush crept into her cheeks as she clenched her hands into fists. She had to brave through Brendan's jeers and mockery as calmly as she could.
Deirdre followed his silhouette inside.
Brendan poured himself a cup of water and took a sip with his eyes set on the young woman. "I heard from Sam that you were practically begging to see me. Now, why the would you want to do that? If it's about Charlene, you can go ahead and Kill that hope before wasting any more of our time. I'm not going to help you."
"I know." Deirdre gulped and maintained a facade of impassivity. She already knew that.
"Oh? Then why are you here?" he asked. His voice had an obvious tinge of curiosity. Then, before she could even answer him, a sardonic smile crept into his lips, and he gleefully made his dehumanizing accusation. "It’s because he couldn't scratch your horny little itch, isn't it? So, you've got no choice but to scrape your knee to beg me."
Deirdre finally showed some reaction. She lifted her head, her eyes red.
“Oh! Someone's angry now!" he pointed out coldly. "But you should have known, McKinnon. There are consequences to insisting on meeting me.”
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