When Deirdre passed by, Brendan grabbed her arm abruptly.

"Where are you going?" He had drunk some alcohol today, so his head was aching slightly. He warned in a low voice, "Deirdre, don't make me angry."

Deirdre's teeth chattered as she looked up at him. "Make you angry? Are you going to hit me?"

These words made Brendan's face sour. He leaned close to her as if to coax her or to give in.

"Deirdre, how could I?"

Deirdre tilted her head to avoid his approaching lips. He reeked of alcohol, which made her uncomfortable. In the past, he never came here reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. The details already told her everything.

"How could you? You can even attack your subordinate, who treats you so well. How about a woman who can be replaced at any time?"

As soon as she finished her sentence, Brendan's face turned cold.

"Are you here to seek justice for Sam?"

Deirdre withdrew her hand and said, "I wouldn't dare. After all, I can't even explain myself, although you view me as such