His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 10

Early the next morning, Whitley got up before dawn. After quietly saying goodbye to Bonnie, she left the manor ahead of the others.

PurePath Biologics.

This was the cutting-edge medical research institute she had co-founded with her senior colleague, Chisholm Vance. It was her life's work, and the only leverage she had left in her suffocating marriage.

"Whitley, are you prepped for tonight?" Chisholm asked, handing her a tablet. "If we secure this bid, the institute will catapult to an entirely new level."

Whitley looked up, her eyes razor-sharp. "We aren't just going to bid. We're going to win."

At 8:00 PM, Whitley and Chisholm arrived at the luxury ballroom for the summit.

This was her first time attending an event of this caliber. She was the brains behind the operation, preferring the sanctuary of her lab over the exhausting politics of high-society networking.

As a result, almost no one in the room recognized her face.

Chisholm, on the other hand, was the rising star of the industry, widely respected and impeccably connected. Because she walked in by his side, the room naturally assumed she was merely his plus-one or an assistant.

While Chisholm worked the room, Whitley slipped away to a quiet corner in the back, avoiding the noise.

Suddenly, a massive ripple of murmurs swept through the ballroom, drawing her attention to the entrance.

Whitley slowly lifted her gaze.

Clive and Yelena had arrived.

Clive looked devastating in a tailored suit, his aura entirely commanding and aloof. Yelena clung gracefully to his arm, beaming with a perfectly practiced, elegant smile. They looked like the ultimate power couple.

Clive Sherwood, Deputy Secretary at the Foreign Office. His mere presence in the room sent shockwaves through the crowd. Instantly, he became the center of gravity.

"I am simply here accompanying Yelena tonight. Please, carry on," Clive announced, his voice carrying effortlessly over the room.

He looked down at Yelena, his expression softening into a tenderness Whitley had never been allowed to witness.

That one sentence was all it took. Everyone in the room understood immediately: the untouchable Clive Sherwood was here to back Yelena Nash.

Yelena lowered her head, looking perfectly demure and flushed.

Because she rarely made public appearances, no one realized the woman they were tearing apart was sitting right there.

Chisholm, overhearing the venomous gossip, felt his expression turn violently cold. He stepped forward, his voice cutting through the room like a whip.

"Let's leave the baseless gossip at the door. That is not what this summit is about."

The ballroom instantly fell dead silent.

At that exact moment, Clive's chilling gaze locked onto Chisholm.

It was a quiet, paralyzing stare, heavy with the terrifying authority of a man who destroyed careers before breakfast.

Chisholm didn't flinch. He glanced at Yelena, then met Clive's lethal stare head-on.

"You two certainly seem close," Chisholm remarked smoothly.

He deliberately shifted his gaze to Yelena. "I assume this is the famous Mrs. Sherwood?"