His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 144

Clive was singularly obsessed with elevating Yelena and her family, pulling every string and pouring in endless capital. Whitley couldn't stop him, nor did she care to try.

All she could do was put her head down and pull her project—and her life—back on track, piece by piece.

The financial feeds were flooded with glowing PR pieces about Nash Pharma. Whenever Zinnia and Chisholm Vance saw them, their expressions soured.

Zinnia leaned over, studying Whitley's calm profile before she finally couldn't hold back. "Does this really not piss you off at all? He's using his marital assets to fund another woman's empire, and Yelena is parading around acting like she's already Mrs. Sherwood. How do you stomach it?"

Whitley closed her folder and looked up smoothly. "Getting mad doesn't solve anything. It just wastes my time."

In the past, she had cried until her chest ached over these things, leaving herself battered and broken. She had no intention of repeating history.

Zinnia looked at her with exasperated affection. "Well, if you ever snap and decide to throw a punch, make sure you call me for backup."

Whitley offered a faint smile but didn't say anything more.

By the time she left work, the sky had turned an ominous, bruised black. Heavy clouds hung low, signaling an impending downpour.

The custom jade bangle Bonnie had ordered from abroad had been delivered to the marital house. Whitley figured she'd swing by to grab it on her way, saving herself a second trip.

She hadn't brought her car, so she hailed a cab directly to the estate.

She arrived at the villa right at 7:00 PM, just as the sky ripped open. A torrential downpour crashed down without warning, heavy droplets exploding against the pavement.

Whitley paid the fare and sprinted toward the overhang, using her bag to shield her head. But the rain was too aggressive. Half her body was instantly soaked, the wet silk of her blouse clinging to her freezing skin.

She stood at the front door ringing the bell, but after a long wait, there was absolute silence inside.

The evening wind whipped the icy rain against her, sending a violent shiver down her spine. She was already nursing a cold from getting caught in the rain a few days prior; now, her head throbbed with a vengeance.

Logically, the house shouldn't be empty at this hour.

She hurried around to the side door, planning to use the spare key, only to freeze. The lock had been changed. The gleaming brass of the new cylinder mocked her in the dim light.

Whitley stared at it for a second, then let out a self-deprecating laugh.

The last time she had come, the front door code was changed. This time, the side lock was gone.

Clive was silent for a few seconds, seemingly reluctant to give it to her.

"Have the housekeeper open it."

"I don't want to make a second trip," Whitley said flatly. "I just want my things, and then I'm gone."

"...I'll text it to you."

A moment after the line clicked dead, a string of unknown numbers appeared on her screen.

Whitley stared at the digits, her grip tightening on the phone. It was Yelena's birthday.

She punched in the code, and the door beeped open.

The inside of the house was brilliantly lit. Leroy Sherwood was sprawled on the living room sofa, gaming headset strapped to his ears. He had obviously heard the bell ringing and deliberately ignored it.

Seeing Whitley walk in dripping wet, Leroy didn't even lift his eyes from the screen. He sneered, "Don't you know how to dry off before walking in? If you ruin the floors, it's a huge hassle."