His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 22

Yet, it all felt suffocatingly foreign.

She used to think this would be her family forever. But now...

Whitley’s lips curled into a self-deprecating smirk. Taking a deep breath, she walked up the steps and pushed the front door open.

Instead of a warm greeting, she was met with the sight of Lyanna's hand slicing through the air.

*Smack.*

A sharp, resounding slap landed squarely on Whitley's cheek. The sheer force snapped her head to the side. Instantly, her face burned with a stinging fire, and a high-pitched ringing echoed in her ear.

Whitley stood frozen, her fingers trembling slightly as she slowly lifted her eyes to look at her adoptive mother.

"You ungrateful wretch! How can you be so vicious?" Lyanna's eyes were bloodshot with fury. "Yelena's health is so fragile, yet you try to push her out of every project! You steal her opportunities, and you even admit you ignored her when she had a fever in the past! What kind of monster are you?"

Every word felt like a poisoned needle driving straight into her bones.

Whitley opened her mouth, wanting to explain, wanting to defend herself. But her throat tightened, refusing to let out a single sound.

No matter what she said, none of them would believe her.

Across the living room stood Caleb Nash—the older brother who used to dote on her, who used to shield her from the world. Now, he stood firmly by Yelena's side, staring at Whitley with a gaze so chillingly detached it made her stomach turn.

With an arm protectively around a pale, frail-looking Yelena, Caleb's voice was absolute ice. "Whitley, you've disappointed me more than words can say. Yelena has always struggled with her health, yet you target her, scheme against her, and refuse to share a single project with her. When did you become this evil?"

Evil.

She was evil?

Whitley looked at Yelena, who was nestled against Caleb’s chest. Yelena’s eyes were glistening with fake tears, but beneath the practiced vulnerability, Whitley could see the undeniable spark of triumph.

She looked around the room at the people who had raised her, their faces twisted with disgust and disappointment, and suddenly, the blood in her veins ran ice-cold.

"So, she loses out on a project, fails to beg Clive for a favor, and comes running back here to play the victim?" Whitley’s gaze locked onto Yelena. "If you're not competent enough, you need to work harder. Stop crying about it."

But Yelena instantly lunged forward, her fingers wrapping like a vise around Whitley’s wrist. "Whitley, don't leave! They’re just angry right now! They don't mean it; they still love you. I just want us to work together! I've always seen you as my real sister..."

Yelena’s grip was soft, but it felt like a cold, slimy snake coiling around Whitley's skin.

Whitley felt violently nauseous. "Let go of me."

But Yelena refused to release her grip. "Please, don't throw a tantrum. The family is just looking out for you. Let me join your project, and I can help you manage everything..."

Taking a deep breath, Whitley violently yanked her arm free.

Caught off guard, Yelena stumbled backward and collapsed onto the floor.

Whitley hadn't even used that much force. It shouldn't have been enough to make anyone fall.

But Yelena immediately curled in on herself, clutching her stomach, her face draining of color. "It hurts... My stomach hurts..."