His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 19

Whitley's face went cold. She pulled out her phone to hail a ride.

Opening the app, she saw she was 67th in line.

Just then, the Armored Sentinel stopped directly in front of her.

Cole, the driver, stepped out of the front seat and handed her the keys. "Mr. Sherwood requests that you drive them to the Rainfall Club."

The Rainfall Club was the most exclusive, high-stakes political and business venue in the Capital.

Whitley felt a bone-deep exhaustion.

"I'm not obligated to do that," she replied flatly.

The tinted rear window slowly rolled down.

It revealed the man's striking eyes—deep, refined, yet radiating an undeniable, chilling authority.

Through the freezing rain, his voice was smooth and deliberate. "Get in the car. You'll get what you want."

Dr. Landon was sitting in the passenger seat. He chimed in, "Clive, does Cole have errands to run?"

Clive nodded. "Some urgent files for the Foreign Office."

Whitley stared at Dr. Landon.

Even if she only got to exchange a sentence or two with him, it would be worth it.

Whitley finally got in the driver's seat and pulled out toward the Rainfall Club.

Inside the car, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. The rain lashed against the windows, blurring the city lights into streaks of neon.

Whitley gripped the steering wheel, smoothly merging into traffic.

In the back, Yelena effortlessly struck up a conversation with Dr. Landon.

Yelena sat with perfect posture, her tone striking the exact balance between humility and absolute confidence. She walked him through her academic history abroad and her specialized research, her logic flawless. Dr. Landon nodded approvingly.

"My research focus overseas perfectly aligns with this new initiative," Yelena said smoothly. "If the opportunity arises, I would love to seek your guidance in the future."

The heavy car glided to a smooth stop in front of the Rainfall Club.

Clive stepped out first, naturally walking around to open the door for Yelena. The gesture was intimate and wildly practiced.

He didn't take his eyes off Yelena, not even sparing a passing glance for the driver's seat, let alone saying goodbye.

Sheltered by him, Yelena paused and looked back at Whitley in the car. Her voice was dripping with sweetness. "Clive, let Whitley come inside too. We should all have dinner together."

Clive didn't reply. He just looked down.

Whitley sat in the driver's seat, her fingertips freezing.

Clive's silence was a blunt refusal. The message couldn't have been clearer.

She forced a faint, hollow smile. "No thanks. Enjoy yourselves."

She had absolutely no desire to go inside and watch them play house while she sat there like a pathetic punchline.