Chapter 125
125:
The commotion drew the attention of the household staff, with Rachael and Julia arriving first.
Rachael immediately pointed a finger at Brenna. “Miss Brenna Harper, how dare you bully Miss Rosie Harper like this? This is going overboard!” she exclaimed.
Brenna responded calmly, “Did you actually see me bully her? Dalton is here too—why didn’t you accuse him of bullying her?”
Rachael scoffed as she helped Rosie to her feet, her voice dripping with disdain. “Mr. Dalton Harper has cherished Miss Rosie Harper since childhood. How could he ever bully her? It must be you who bullied her!”
Rosie, overwhelmed by pain so severe she could barely stand, leaned heavily on Rachael, her eyes burning with animosity toward Brenna. The absence of visible marks on her wrist baffled her; she could clearly feel the severe pain.
She shouted, “Brenna’s trying to kill me! I’ll tell Grandpa and Grandma!” She pushed at Rachael. “Go and call my grandparents over. I refuse to believe no one can see how badly I’m hurt.”
Dalton’s patience was wearing thin. Before his return, Rosie had filled the family group chat with negative tales about Brenna, turning everyone against her.
Now, back home, he witnessed firsthand how Rosie consistently targeted Brenna—and now she was even accusing Brenna of trying to kill her.
He raised his voice at Rosie. “Enough! Your wrist looks perfectly fine—it’s not even red. What exactly do you want?”
He turned to Julia. “Aren’t you a nurse? You’ve worked in the ER before. Examine her wrist now.”
Julia stepped in, taking a careful look at Rosie’s wrist. The skin was smooth, the bones intact—no swelling, no fractures, not even a hint of a sprain.
g∆𝗅𝑛𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀.𝗰𝓸𝗺, – 𝓃𝑒𝓍𝓉 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝗈𝗇
She said, “Mr. Dalton Harper, Miss Rosie Harper’s wrist shows no signs of injury.”
Rosie shouted, “That’s impossible! I’m in agony! You are lying!”
Brenna responded with a shrug, her tone indifferent. “Who can say whether you’re faking it or not? Let’s go to the hospital and get your wrist checked.”
She looked at Dalton, seeking his opinion.
Dalton glanced down at his phone.
The files had loaded, revealing rows upon rows of folders filled with intricate designs of car exteriors and parts.
Brenna explained, her voice steady, “These are my award-winning designs from international competitions over the last five years—they include cars, helicopters, and ferries.”
Rosie’s complexion turned a guilty shade of red, her expression shifting uneasily. “That’s impossible! These designs are cutting-edge. How could you possibly have such skill? You’re lying! You must have stolen these designs from other people just to show off!”
Rosie’s fury was evident as her face twisted. She said, “Brenna, stop pretending. I’ve already looked into it. To achieve this level of design skill, you’d need at least twenty years of experience. Even if your diploma is real, how long have you actually been working? How much design experience do you really have? With your background, you probably haven’t even worked on any significant projects, let alone designed so many products on your own. It’s simply impossible.”
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