His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 17

Whitley found it entirely laughable.

Maybe Clive just wanted to preserve his pristine public image.

Yelena quickly stepped in, playing the graceful peacemaker. "Let it go, Leroy. I'm fine. Clive is right, you should show her some respect."

Leroy looked furious but, out of respect for Clive, held his tongue. He simply lowered his voice and muttered one final jab. "A stolen marriage never ends well."

Whitley didn't waste another second looking at them. She turned and walked straight into the hall.

Yelena looked up, stealing a glance at Clive's profile to gauge his reaction. She bit her lip, forcing a tone of sweet consideration. "Clive, Whitley seems really upset. Maybe you should... comfort her tonight? You don't need to come to my place. You came over so late last night, you must be exhausted. You don't have to keep taking care of me."

Whitley heard it. A chill washed over her, but she didn't stop walking.

So Clive had packed his bags to stay with Yelena. That meant his brief return last night wasn't out of concern for her health; he had just come back to pack his clothes. Him trying to take her to the hospital was likely just basic human decency—or pity.

For one brief, pathetic second, she had actually let herself believe he came home because she collapsed.

Leroy scoffed loudly behind them. "Comfort her? She's lived off the Sherwoods for years, never lifting a finger. She burns through my brother's money while pretending to be some dedicated career woman. She's a total failure, yet she walks around acting so high and mighty! Talk about biting the hand that feeds you. She's never been ambitious a day in her life."

He watched Whitley's unyielding back and deliberately raised his voice, making sure every word hit its mark. "I bet she's only here to get attention. She probably found out Clive was coming and begged Chisholm Vance to bring her along. What could a glorified assistant possibly contribute to a project like this?"

Every toxic word smashed into Whitley's ears. She didn't slow her pace, but her spine went rigid.

Ever since Yelena had been brought back to the Nash family, Whitley had endured this kind of blatant favoritism and humiliation. She was so completely sick of it.

Yelena chimed in, her voice soft and persuasive. "Leroy, be nice. It hasn't been easy for Whitley to manage the household all these years."

Leroy snorted. "You're way too soft. She stole your life, and you're still defending her."

Yelena noted that Clive's expression hadn't changed at all.

Playing the obedient angel, she smoothly changed the subject. "Let's head inside, Clive."

-

Fate was incredibly cruel.

The man sat straight, radiating a regal elegance. Until now, he had remained totally indifferent.

But at that, he slowly turned his head to look at Whitley. His dark eyes were freezing cold, stripped of any warmth.

Yelena's face darkened for a split second before she masked it, continuing in her sugary voice. "I genuinely just want you and Clive to be happy together... maybe you could have a baby... and then..."

*A baby.*

The word was a knife violently twisting in Whitley's chest. She could never have a child.

Her hands balled into fists, and when she looked up, her eyes were lethal. "A baby? So I can get knocked up with a bastard like you and act like I'm better than everyone else?"

Yelena's face drained of color. Her eyes immediately welled with tears. "How could you say something so awful..."

Clive frowned, his voice dropping into a dangerous, warning register. "Whitley."

Whitley met his gaze, tilting her chin up, utterly fearless. "What? Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness?"