?Chapter 454:


    Brenna straightened, her resolve like steel. “Didn’t your hired goonse after me? What was I supposed to do — do nothing after you tried to harm me?”


    After a pause, she continued, “What do you think of my countermove? Do you like it? If not, I can do more.”


    Her voice was low butced with danger. “Try me again, and I won’t hesitate to kill you.”


    The re she shot at Rachael was a silent threat.


    Rachael, who had meant to make things difficult for Brenna, suddenly found herself unable to meet her fierce gaze. Yet beneath her fear, resentment simmered.


    Brenna quickly walked to her room and shut the door behind her.


    Rachael wheeled Rosie into her room and finally found her voice. “Brenna admitted it! That arrogant bitch!”


    Rosie snorted in anger, her hands trembling like leaves in a storm. “She nearly got me killedst time. But she feels no guilt about it. I can even sense that she wants me dead.”


    Concern creased her brow as she turned to Rachael. “Do you think I shouldn’t havee back? What if she really does try to kill me?”


    Rachael trembled at the thought—she understood the dark secrets of the wealthy. Taking out a young woman like Rosie would be child’s y for the Harpers.


    A business empire like theirs surely had its share of enemies. There must have been people the Harper family had crossed. Rachael believed the Harpers had ways to make problems vanish without a trace.


    Yet she was in the dark about their methods.


    “At least the Harpers won’t act openly against you. For now, you need to keep a low profile—don’t provoke them further,” Rachael suggested.


    Rosie’s fear shed with her resentment. She had schemed to humiliate Brenna and win Ethan back before. But now, Brenna’s lethal re haunted her, making her afraid to make any moves.


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    The next morning, Brenna slept well past eleven before asking the chef to pack some food for her.


    She then drove to Ellie’s ce. Patrick answered the door in his pajamas, cookie crumbs dusting his cheeks.


    “Morning! Where’s your mom?” Brenna asked.


    Patrick pouted, pointing toward the bedroom. “She’s still in dreand, telling me to prepare food for myself. Back in Norview, she always let me cook andined that my cooking was giving her malnutrition! But I only know how to make a few simple dishes! I’m just a kid, after all.”


    Brenna wasn’t surprised by this. Ellie’s parenting philosophy seemed to be that survival equaled sess.


    “Poor you,” Brenna said as she went inside and opened the containers she had brought. “I brought you some real food. I also picked these myself from the countryside yesterday.”


    She carefully stored sweet corn, grapes, and cherry tomatoes in the fridge.


    She then told Patrick that the corn only needed to be boiled for fifteen minutes before he could eat it, and that he could eat the grapes and cherry tomatoes after washing them.


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