His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 28

Through the desolate stretch of the mountain pass, Casper immediately spotted Whitley crumpled by the side of the road. Her face was ashen, her body trembling uncontrollably. His jaw tightened in alarm. Without hesitating, he rushed over, scooped her up into his arms, and carried her swiftly to the ambulance.

"Dr. Thorne..." Whitley whispered, her vision swimming. "Thank you."

He gently brushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead. "Just rest. I've got you," he said, his voice a steady, grounding anchor.

The paramedics immediately hooked her up to an IV.

By the time she was admitted to the hospital and given a cocktail of fluids and vitamins, Whitley finally felt a faint semblance of warmth return to her limbs.

The diagnosis was severe exhaustion, extreme exposure to the cold, and immense psychological stress. Her body had essentially hit a brick wall.

Lying in the sterile hospital bed, her fingers weakly gripping the thin blanket, she looked at Casper standing by the window. "I'll be more careful from now on. Seriously, thank you for tonight."

Casper looked down at her, taking in her almost translucent complexion. "Whitley, I've been your doctor for a long time. I consider you a friend. You have to stop running yourself into the ground. Your body can't take this kind of abuse."

Whitley lowered her gaze. "I know," she whispered.

After going over a few medical instructions, Casper left her to rest, and the room plunged back into heavy silence.

*Back in the hospital again.*

Her body was failing her, and hospitals meant medical bills.

Whitley picked up her phone and opened her banking app. The bold numbers on the screen felt like a physical slap in the face: $531.12.

She took a deep, jagged breath and rubbed her pounding temples.

Ever since she cut ties with the Nash family, money had been tight. She had a decent salary, but almost all of it went straight to the Zimmermans to help keep them afloat. And despite being married to a Sherwood for three years, Clive had never once offered her a dime, nor had he ever bothered to ask if she needed anything.

He had given her a supplementary credit card, but aside from purchasing gifts for his family and handling household expenses, she had never used it for herself. She knew that if she swiped it, every single purchase would show up on his statement.

And she had enough self-respect to know that the card was a tool for managing his life, not a blank check for hers.

Opening her purse, Whitley pulled out the jade bracelet Clive had given her. The cool stone rested heavily in her palm.

She slipped it onto her wrist, resolving to pawn it first thing in the morning. She had originally planned to sell it today, but Clive hijacking her afternoon and dragging her to the Manor had ruined that.

Hospitals were notorious for petty theft, so keeping it on her wrist felt safer than leaving it in her bag.

"Oh my God," Yelena gasped softly. "Isn't that the bracelet Clive bought for me? I told him I didn't want it and asked him to return it. I... I can't believe he actually gave it to you."

Whitley froze dead in her tracks.

A violent storm of emotions clawed at her throat, suffocating her.

*So, I'm only good enough for her rejects.*

She had never expected romance or genuine affection from him, but did he really have to give her a hand-me-down from his mistress? It was a level of humiliation she hadn't anticipated.

She went to walk away, but a tall figure rounded the corner.

Clive.

Dressed in a flawlessly tailored overcoat, he radiated an untouchable, aristocratic elegance that made the dreary hospital hallway feel entirely inadequate. He walked with slow, deliberate steps straight toward them.

Whitley’s stomach plummeted.

"Clive!" Yelena beamed the moment she saw him. "I was just talking to Whitley about you. Honestly, how could you take a bracelet I rejected and give it to her? It's just not nice."