His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 104

In his eyes, Whitley was just a freeloader. The smoothly running household had absolutely nothing to do with her efforts.

Whitley had just turned back to grab her purse, and those words hit her ears with crystal clarity.

Her footsteps faltered. It felt like a blunt object had slammed into her chest, leaving a dull, suffocating ache.

It was almost funny.

All those years of swallowing her pride, the endless sacrifices, the sleepless nights—to him, they were worth less than nothing.

"Whitley!" Yelena spotted her and immediately flashed a warm, welcoming smile. "You're back. I was just talking to Clive about you."

Clive glanced back at her. His face was entirely devoid of guilt, let alone any acknowledgment that he had said something wrong.

Whitley's expression was arctic. "If the staff handles everything, why did you force me out of bed in the middle of the night to come here?"

He had even held the PurePath deal hostage just to get her to comply.

She used to think he was just emotionally unavailable. She never realized he could be this utterly ruthless.

Yelena gasped softly, furrowing her brow in a perfect display of victimhood. "I treat Leroy like a brother, but you're the one who has always looked after him. I'm not trying to steal your place. He can always view you as family."

"Please don't fight with Clive because of me. I don't want to ruin your relationship."

Her words were flawlessly constructed, dripping with moral superiority.

Whitley just found it repulsive.

She saw right through it now.

Leroy was completely devoted to Yelena, treating her like blood. Combine that with Clive's blatant favoritism and resources, and the picture was perfectly clear.

They were the real family. She was just a glorified, unpaid nanny guarding a hollow marriage, playing house for people who despised her.

Now that Yelena was back, she had everything—the career, the family, the reputation. And Whitley was left with ashes.

"We were just relying on each other as friends when we were abroad."

Whitley watched the performance and suddenly smiled. Her eyes were dead.

"Then I hope you make plenty more friends to rely on. Best of luck with your bright future."

Without waiting for a response, she walked past them into the room to grab her bag.

Leroy had been eavesdropping from his bed. As soon as she walked in, he glared at her with pure venom.

He grabbed the pillow beside him and hurled it violently at her head. "What gives you the right to act so high and mighty? You stole another woman's man on purpose, and now you're throwing a fit! Have some shame!"

The heavy pillow slammed directly into Whitley's healing wrist. The fragile skin tore open instantly, and fresh crimson blood bloomed against her sleeve, a stark, painful contrast.

A low, muffled groan escaped her lips.

Between the back-to-back all-nighters at work and the sleepless night monitoring his vitals, her body was already running on fumes. The sudden jolt of pain made her ears ring violently. Black spots danced across her vision, and her knees nearly buckled.