Chapter 45 Who Do You Think You Are?

Strewn into their mockery was a thinly-veiled accusation: It was all Deirdre’s fault.

How could they be so cruel? She was just as much of a human as they were. She was not an emotionless plaything ! Why must she obey Brendan’s every whim? Because she had been unfortunate enough to become the Devil’s object of obsession ? Because she deserved to be punished for saying yes to becoming Mrs. Brighthall?

Deirdre’s pain was consuming her from within. She seemed to have depleted her entire supply of tears, and now all there was left in her eyes was a bottomless void threatening to swallow her sense of self.

Then, she remembered. Sterling was about to be beaten by a violent mob.

Fingers trembling, she thought of Brendan’s habit and felt her way to the bottom of the driver’s seat. Then, she pulled out a knife.

She turned its pointy edge toward her neck.

“What the hell are you doing?! Get that thing away from you!” They cried,

from me!” Deirdre shouted, digging it close

a drawn curtain. She might have

to conjure the ferocity of cornered prey she looked as

to snatch the

her teeth, Deirdre snarled, “Tell them to stop, now. And tell Brendan to

f*cked this up … God, there would not be any corpses in the caskets during their eventual funerals! “Alright, princess! You stay right here and don’t let that knife slip the wrong way, you hear me? I’m gonna get

the car, and it did not take him long

shrieked, his body trembling. The cut she had made was deep-and yet she looked like she did not give a damn about herself. All she

were red. “Let Sterling go,

Brendan’s eyes were beet -red, but finally, he howled,” Fine! Fine!” He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and turned to one of his bodyguards. “Stop f*cking standing there like an idiot and tell them to release that bastard! Then tell that piece of sh*t to get the f*ck out

bodyguard ran away. Deirdre’s eyelashes

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