His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 115

Standing alone at the entrance while her family mocked her, Whitley’s mind drifted back to the phone call she’d had that morning.

She had been organizing her raw experimental logs when Chisholm called.

"Mr. Prescott will be attending in person to speak on behalf of the National Health Authority," his steady voice had come through the receiver.

Whitley had paused. Mr. Prescott was an absolute titan in molecular pharmacology. He was a man who held the power of life and death over medical projects, and he rarely attended commercial summits like this.

"Everyone will be trying to get in his good graces today," Chisholm had said. "We need to find an opportunity to talk to him. Getting clinical approval requires his sign-off."

It all made sense now. Yelena hadn't fought for an invite just to show off her dress; she was here to hunt for top-tier connections.

Chisholm had added, "But getting near the NHA's Mr. Prescott will be nearly impossible, so don't get your hopes up. However, my mentor, the esteemed Professor Prescott, is also attending."

Whitley had been genuinely surprised. The professor was semi-retired and hadn't made a public appearance in years. Having both heavyweights in the room elevated this summit to a national level.

Pulling her thoughts back to the present, her eyes drifted to the classic tech exhibits displayed in the hall.

The targeted molecular arrays and stable delivery vectors—those were all her early achievements from the institute. They had filled a massive gap in domestic research and were still the industry standard today. Back then, she hadn't wanted the spotlight, so everything was credited to the institute. No one knew she was the true architect.

She overheard several experts admiring the displays, marveling at how the designs remained unsurpassed and debating who the genius behind them was.

Whitley listened quietly, a bitter ache in her chest.

Chisholm always said the only person who could beat her was herself. Yet, for the sake of her marriage and the Sherwood family, she had buried her talent and wasted her prime years on people who didn't care.

She stopped in front of a glass display case tucked in a corner. Inside sat the Gen-1 Molecular Target Array—her crowning achievement from grad school. It had solved a massive industry bottleneck regarding binding precision and degradation, and was still used as a foundational prototype by multiple institutions.

Her fingers twitched. She instinctively leaned in, wanting to get a closer look at the familiar structural ridges.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her wrist and yanked her back.

Whitley frowned and looked up, meeting Yelena’s condescending smile. "Whitley, you can't just touch the exhibits."

"These are critical industry milestones. I know you don't understand this stuff, but if you break something, it's going to be a huge problem."

Xander immediately chimed in with a sneer, looking her up and down with disgust. "Chisholm actually brought you here? Well, I guess since the Vance Group is hosting, pulling strings for trash is easy enough."