Chapter 915 I Won't Be So Sure About Calling Me the "Other Woman" If I Were You

"How's drinking too much supposedly comparable to a pregnant woman's health issue!?" Mrs. Engel fumed. "And this is a matter between Mr. Brighthall and Mrs. Brighthall! It’s none of your business’" "Mrs. Engel, you forgot yourself," Brendan suddenly said, his voice dangerously low. "Don't make me hear this again."

Mrs. Engel froze. She was stunned.

Deirdre clenched her fingers so hard her nails turned white. She raised her head. "What do you think we forgot about, huh? The 'fact' that we’re supposed to be nothing more than a mute or a lowly servant in your eyes?"

Brendan's eyebrows furrowed. Charlene snickered. ’Deirdre, you insolent, stupid b*tch. She thinks Brendan will let her go after talking back at him like that?'

Charlene predicted Brendan’s reaction to a tee. A sheen of frost overcame Brendan's face as he coldly said, "I want you to be obedient and deliver my child without accident." "Ah, so you want me to be a mute and a servant altogether. You really think you can do anything you like because you're powerful, right? What goes around comes around, Brendan! Or do you believe you're above that, too?" "McKinnon!" snarled Brendan. "If you think everyone's going to suffer your petulance because you're pregnant, you're mistaken."

Brendan took a deep breath and forced his voice to calm back down to apathy. "Sam, bring Miss McKinnon back to the mansion. From now on, she's not to leave the house unless I explicitly

a scowl frozen on his

What Brendan had commanded was nothing short

McKinnon, I don’t know about you, but you should learn to read other people’s faces better," remarked

you had was nothing special. You simply f*cked him at the right f*cking time to be impregnated with his child, and that caused him to temporarily care for you... because he cared for his kin. But if you keep exhausting his patience at a speed like that, honey, he's not gonna wanna see you ever again. H*ll, he's

"My God, did you forget you were the man-stealing, mistress-playing witch when you

biggest loser in love isn’t the ‘man-stealing, mistress-playing witch' as you called it. It's the idiot who knew he

manner of life and brio seemed to have been drained of her

"Oh... right. No point showing you what he left on me since you're blind," she intoned. "But, since I'm feeling generous about information, I'll let you in on some news. Bren's gonna marry me when his scandals are blown over. This is why I wouldn't be so sure about calling me the other woman if

she strutted away,

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