The Phantom Heiress Rising From The Shadows novel Chapter 91

Chapter 91 Is This Your Idea Of An Apology

Brenna scanned the room. Rosie was nowhere to be seen, or perhaps she was lurking in the shadows. This was

the perfect opportunity to watch her be humiliated, and Rosie wouldn’t pass that up.

Her gaze swept over the group. Seven young men, four women, and herself. Twelve in total.

The table was littered with empty bottles, but what stood out most were the small bags in the center–one filled with white powder, another with yellow pills, and a third with blue pills.

Brenna had worked in bars while studying in Norview. She knew exactly what those substances were. Harmless was the last thing they were. One hit, and a person’s life could spiral beyond repair.

A man with dyed yellow hair, probably in his mid–twenties, caught her attention. He was undeniably handsome, with a mischievous charm. However, that charm faded as she watched him casually sprinkle the white powder onto his cigar.

Brenna recognized him at once. He was Brandon Vargas, the son of Shirie’s deputy mayor.

He was seated at the heart of the group, clearly thriving on attention. His gaze roamed over Brenna with unmistakable intent. With a smirk, he whistled boldly and said without shame, “Nice figure. But I wonder if you’re as exciting in bed.”

The words were vile, but Brenna refused to give him the reaction he wanted. She merely cast him a brief, indifferent glance before looking away.

Sylvie and Vivian, however, noticed Brandon’s comment and exchanged knowing smiles. The former seized the moment to introduce him to Brenna. “Brandon is the deputy mayor’s son. Even the Harper family’s business relies on his father in some ways, Miss Harper, you’d do well to show some respect to him. Wouldn’t want what you do to affect your family, now would you?”

Brenna turned to Sylvie with a look of pure disdain. “You seem quite familiar with him,” she said.

Sylvie instantly caught the insinuation and stiffened. “I am not exactly close to him,” she said.

The next moment, she turned her attention to the untouched drink in Harlan’s hand. Seeing that Brenna had no interest in drinking, she took the glass herself and held it to Brenna with a sweet smile. “I told you, I invited you here tonight to apologize to you formally. Let’s drink and forget about the past.” She was also holding a glass for herself. Brenna accepted the glass of drink from her.

Vivian, seeing that, also held up a glass of drink. She and Sylvie clinked their glasses with Brenna’s.

“If you don’t drink, it means you haven’t forgiven us,” Vivian said with a smile, seeing that Brenna didn’t move.

Displeased with Brenna’s refusal to cooperate, Harlan strolled over to the table, plucked a blue pill from a bag.

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<Chapter 01 Is This Your Idea Of An Apology

and casually dropped it into her glass. He said, “Here, add this. Drink it, and you’ll feel amazing”

A slow, calculated grin spread across his face.

Brenna watched as the blue pill bubbled and dissolved. Back in Norview, substances like these were common in bars. They were loosely regulated and treated casually by the local youth.

But Brenna knew better. These pills were highly addictive. Too much of them could push a person into a dangerous, manic state–or worse, leave them unconscious,

She met Harlan’s gaze resolutely and said, “I’m not drinking this.”

A chill settled over the group as everyone’s face turned cold.

Sylvie immediately expressed her displeasure, saying, “So you refuse to forgive us, Miss Harper? We invited you here in good faith, with witnesses, to offer a sincere apology. And yet, you won’t even show us the courtesy of

a drink?”

“Do you think you’re above us? Do you look down on the Morrison family?” Vivian questioned.

“Yeah, what’s the deal, big shot? You think you’re better than me? If you’re too good for a drink, why even

come here?” Harlan moved closer and attempted to force Brenna to drink it.

But before he could do that, Brenna lifted the glass and threw its contents straight into his face. “Is this how

you apologize? By forcing drinks on me?” she said coldly.

Wine dripped down Harlan’s face, seeping into his floral shirt. He turned to the group on the sofa, and their

barely concealed smirks and amused glances fueled his rage. No one had ever dared humiliate him like this.

With a dark expression, he grabbed another glass, this time dropping in five blue pills. He set it down in front

of Brenna and declared, “Drink this, or you won’t be leaving here alive tonight.”