His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 124

No one answered her.

Lyanna still wore a furious scowl, Xander's face remained twisted in disdain, and the attendees who already favored Yelena continued to whisper, shoving all the blame onto the "winner."

In their world, right and wrong didn't exist. There was only favoritism.

Yelena was family. She was delicate. She needed to be protected.

And Whitley? She was an outsider. She was too tough. She deserved whatever suffering came her way.

It was laughable. It was incredibly heartless.

Whitley didn't want to spend another second in this room or look at any of these people for another moment.

The truth was out. She had gotten the justice she came for. As for their prejudice and accusations, she no longer had the energy—or the desire—to defend herself.

She gathered her documents, straightened her spine, and completely ignored the stares and whispers as she walked gracefully toward the backstage exit.

She had absolutely zero interest in whatever was left of the summit.

Walking through the chaotic backstage corridors, staff members threw strange looks her way—some admiring, some curious, some pitying.

Whitley ignored them all, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

Just as she reached the side exit, a tall, imposing figure blocked her path.

It was Clive.

Whitley paused, a flicker of genuine surprise flashing in her eyes.

Normally, the second Yelena ran out crying, he would have been right on her heels to comfort her, coddle her, and make sure she was perfectly fine. He wouldn't have wasted a millisecond lingering here.

She had been numb to his blatant favoritism for Yelena for years.

But today, he hadn't left.

He hadn't chased after the "wronged," crying Yelena. Instead, he stayed behind and stopped her.

Whitley looked up at him. Her eyes were calm, but buried beneath the surface was an icy detachment.

Clive stood before her, tall and straight, his expression maintaining its usual unreadable neutrality.

His gaze fell on her face. "If you really did this project, I'll buy it out."

Whitley took a sharp breath.

The truth was already out. The evidence was glaringly obvious. Everyone in that room knew she was the true creator of the project.

Yet, he didn't care about Yelena's plagiarism. He didn't offer a single word of apology for years of misunderstanding her.

He couldn't even manage a basic apology. His very first instinct was to throw money at her to buy out her life's work.

All these years of marriage.

From the day they met, she had given up her education, shelved her own research, and dulled her own shine, all for him and his family. She had dedicated herself to being a wife, pouring her entire heart and soul into their home.

She had genuinely believed that even without some epic romance, even if he didn't truly love her, her years of quiet sacrifice would eventually earn a sliver of trust. A tiny piece of his heart.

In the end, she realized it had all been one-sided delusion.

Even with ironclad proof, even when the entire industry believed her, even after she tore herself apart to prove her innocence... Clive still didn't believe her.

To him, she was still a scheming outsider who could never measure up to Yelena.

He didn't trust her character. He didn't trust her abilities. He didn't trust her innocence.

After years of marriage, even basic trust was an impossible luxury.

He never truly knew her. He never believed in her. He had never once looked at her as an equal.

Whitley slowly pulled her gaze away from him. "Mixing your personal bias with business is just laughable."

She didn't look at him again.

She turned slightly and walked right past him.