His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 140

Clive had finally decided to grace them with his presence.

Dressed in a sharp, pitch-black suit that made his imposing frame look even taller and more commanding, he held a bouquet of white funeral flowers. The sheer authority radiating from him commanded the room's attention.

When Lamont Zimmerman saw him, the tight, angry lines on his face relaxed slightly. He didn't say anything, but his gaze swept critically between Clive and Whitley.

To Lamont, no matter what kind of marital spat the younger generation was having, basic respect at a formal occasion was non-negotiable.

Clive's eyes landed on Whitley, his tone softening to a degree that was exceptionally rare for him, making them look like a flawlessly happy couple. "I'm not too late, am I?"

It was only in front of his grandmother and her elders that he was willing to put on such a convincing performance.

Whitley stared at him, her heart turning to solid ice.

Just moments ago on the phone, he had been casually strolling through a mall with Yelena, relaxed and cheerful—a disgusting contrast to the heavy, mourning atmosphere surrounding them now.

Bonnie stepped forward, lightly slapping his arm in a display of faux-annoyance. "So you do know how to show up! Any later and the ceremony would have started without you."

"Hurry up. Offer your incense to Shamar, and then apologize to Uncle Javier."

Clive didn't argue. He stepped forward respectfully, lit three sticks of incense, and gently placed the white chrysanthemums on the altar. His etiquette was flawless; no one could find a single fault in his behavior.

Then, he turned to Javier, offering a polite, distant nod.

Whitley watched it all with cold detachment, finding the entire charade sickeningly ironic.

"Since everyone is finally here, let's begin."

The memorial ritual wasn't long—just a brief fifteen minutes—but to Whitley, it dragged on like an agonizing century.

Standing in a forgotten corner, Clive's eyes never once flickered in her direction. He was cold, aloof, treating her like a total stranger.

Whitley knew exactly why he was here. It wasn't for her, and it certainly wasn't out of respect for Shamar. He had only come to appease Bonnie, to go through the motions so he wouldn't have to deal with her wrath later.

Once the indoor ceremony concluded, the family prepared to head to the cemetery.

Due to her advanced age and fragile mobility, Bonnie stayed behind at the estate to wait for their return.

Javier and Lamont exchanged a look. Though they were visibly unhappy, they couldn't force him to stay, given that he had technically shown his face for the main rites.

Bonnie, however, wasn't having it. "What could possibly be more important than family? I expect you back for the family dinner tonight."

Clive glanced at his watch. "We'll see," he replied flatly.

Before leaving, he made a point to look directly at Whitley, his voice carrying the exact right amount of husbandly concern. "Take care of yourself. Let me know if you need anything."

In front of the elders, his acting was always Oscar-worthy.

Whitley felt a suffocating lump in her throat. She couldn't even muster the energy to fake a reply.

-

The cemetery was battered by a freezing, relentless drizzle.

The family knelt before Shamar's grave to pay their final respects. Staring at the familiar, smiling photograph etched into the headstone, waves of memories crashed over Whitley. Despite her best efforts, her eyes burned red, and the tears finally began to fall.