Chapter 449 How Much Longer Should Her Torment Last?
âThis article is proof!â
âArticle?â Declanâs features twisted into an unamused glare. âI can write a hundred of those fake articles with a slightly different bend. People donât even have to attach their real names to half of this trashy fake news now, let alone do old-fashioned things like corroborating it with solid evidence.
âHonestly, who gave you the right to harass someone innocent over some tabloidâs piss-poor excuse of an article?â
âMr. King âYouâre all right, Miss McKinnon. Ainât no reason to play nice to *ssholes, right?â he replied reassuringly.
âWait, Miss âMcKinnonâ? Her name is McKinnon!?â
âWhatâs that to you, news as well?â Declan clapped back. âShould I call the cops and have them read her personal information to you too?â
The woman finally quaked. Her friend tugged on her shirt, and they left in embarrassment.
Deirdre fought back her tears. It felt like a crater had erupted from the inside of her skull. She had to calm herself down with several deep breaths before muttering, âMr. King, what is going on?â
Declan was just as confused. âSomeoneâs got their eyes on you.â
âWhat does that mean?â
âSomeone must have recognized you while you were walking around the hospital, taken your picture, and sold it to fake news agencies with sh*tty rep. They made a big story about you being Brighthallâs ex-wife, and youâre now back here âtrying to get together again.â
âYou know what the media is like nowadays. They will publish anything to get views and clicks. This is especially true when one of the protagonists is at his most milkable moments right now, so with your story, they spread it out like it was the plague.â
Deirdre felt her head spinning. âYouâre telling me itâs already out there? The news?â
âDonât worry. Iâve got my people to suppress the matter as much as we can on the Internet. Weâll come out with a clarification of some kind. Anything to lower the damage coming at you.â
She could feel a headache coming. This was not what worried her at all. âWhat about Brendan?â she asked, her voice trembling. Her fists were red from her force, and her eyes were widening in fear. âIf people in this hospital know, then⦠he must have read it too!â
Declan was stunned. He had thought Deirdre was worried about character assassinations or the threat to her freedom, but it turned out she was worried about whether Brendan knew about her.
âNo, I donât think so. He and Kyran have their operations on the same day. He should be inside by now.â
âThatâs goodâ¦â Deirdre exhaled in relief. Her face was still white as a sheet. Her eyes were red.
âThank you, Mr. King. Please help me bury this on the Internet. And one last thingâ¦.
âIâm not a murderer, I swear.â
She was worried that Declan would begin to doubt who she was. She could not let it happen-this was about Deirdreâs moral character!
âI know.â
She was stunned. âYou⦠know?â
Even Madame Brighthall had no idea. How did someone who lived as far as Eastgene know, then?
He considered her surprise and explained, âI can tell from the times weâve been hanging out together, Miss McKinnon Youâre a kind soul. There is no way you could be the type to run if you accidentally run someone over. Besides, you hate Brendan so much that Iâm willing to bet he framed you for the crime.â
Deirdre said nothing. Her eyes were wet. She breathed as hard as she could, yet she could not calm.
herself. A man who had only spent a few months with her knew her inability to harm better than anyone.
But the other man who had spent years? And all the things he had done against her?
âThe irony is biting. Brendan Brighthall, just how long are you going to keep tormenting me!?â
âI⦠Thank youâ¦â Deirdre croaked.