Resent, Reject, Regret by Aqua Summers

Chapter 354

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Chapter 354 A Chance Meeting

“Wait, so you two are not…” Tobey froze for a moment before sighing in relief. “Oh my God, Dee! You almost gave me a heart attack!

“Listen very carefully. The last thing we common folks wanna do is to find ourselves involved in these nobles‘ skirmishes. We don’t have status or wealth to back us, Dee. The

only thing that’s gonna come out of this is us being chewed up and torn apart by the chaos.”

Deirdre felt her entire body turning into stone. She closed her eyes, her eyelids trembling, and wished someone had told her this earlier. If only someone had told her sooner.

God, things would have been so different!

“I know what you mean, Toby. But I’m only acquainted with Mr. King because he’s the man behind the plans to develop Alnwick into a tourist spot.”

“Oh, so it was him.” A severe look crossed Tobey’s face. He mulled it over for a second and frowned. “It’s a profitable business and all, yet I can’t help but find this a little

suspicious. Why does a man with that much power and resources want to focus on a place most people can’t even point out on a map?”

“He said Eastgene has completely become his brother’s domain, so he has to strike out on his own.”

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Tobey relaxed. “Huh.”

Deirdre bit her lip. “There’s one more I need information on, Toby. Please.”

“Kyran Reed?”

Deirdre was stunned. “How did you…”

Tobey’s laugh sounded a little hollow. “I’d investigate his background even if you didn’t ask, Dee. The man’s too mysterious for my taste, and the fact that he’s trying to get

close to you? Well, I don’t think I can sleep well unless I know exactly who he is.”

“Thank you, Toby. You help me so much, I don’t even know if I can-”

“Dee, we’re more than just neighbors. We’re friends. I’m not doing this because I like you,” Tobey said quickly. “You should rest. One of my friends is a journalist, and I’m sure

he can help me with this. Call you then.”

“Sounds good. Thank you.”

Deirdre lay on her bed. The cost of her emotional roller–coaster must have finally

caught up with her. Keeping her eyes open was starting to feel like a chore.

She fell asleep.

By the time she opened her eyes again, her phone informed her it was already late evening. She made her way to the bathroom and took a shower.

After she was dressed, she heard a staff member calling from behind the door. “Are you awake, Miss McKinnon?”

“Coming.” She opened the door.

The staff member smiled. “Good evening! Mr. King told me to get you some dinner before sending you to the hospital.”

She thanked her bashfully and dutifully ate some dinner. A few bites later, she set her fork down.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. Her appetite was just not there.

The staff member bagged some desserts and handed them to her before sending her to the hospital.

The journey had been an anxious one. She walked fast, her head low as her nerves seemed to wind more and more tightly, and headed to the elevator. She was about to get

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in when she heard a voice saying, “Mr. Brighthall! Do you need my help?”

She froze.

Then a voice–one she could never banish from the abyss of her mind–snapped.” No. I’m wounded, but I’m not dead!”

He sounded impatient and a little under the weather. Even after his declaration of independence, he coughed.

Deirdre swore her heart stopped beating. Her feet had turned to lead–or maybe they had sprouted roots. Her body refused to move.

Brendan stepped out of the elevator and suddenly stopped in his tracks as though sensing something in his vicinity.

He stared in the direction where Deirdre was.

His assistant was quick to notice his change and asked, “What’s wrong, Mr. Brighthall?”

The crowd around the escalator was big enough. People from all walks of life swarmed in and out, all in droves. Brendan frowned, unsure why he suddenly felt a

steep pang of breathless anxiety. It was as though something was right within his grasp moments ago, only for it to escape through the space between his fingers.

He suddenly felt feckless. Feeble.

“Nothing,” Brendan replied, turning his attention away. “Where’s Lena?”

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Resent, Reject, Regret by Aqua Summers

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