His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 33

"Is it because of that bracelet?"

Whitley's chest seized, a dull ache blooming behind her ribs.

Given the state of their marriage, she didn't exactly have the right to demand answers. Yet here he was, acting as if he owed her an explanation. For a fleeting second, it felt like they were back in their first year of marriage, when things were still affectionate. When he actually used to solve her problems.

But she knew better now. Any kindness he showed her was merely a projection of someone else, or simply a byproduct of his polished upbringing. Even now, since they weren't officially divorced, he likely felt a superficial obligation to manage her mood.

He had abandoned her alone in the mountains. He had stripped away her dignity to hand it to Yelena. What was left to say?

For a moment, she had almost let herself be fooled.

Whitley took a deep breath, her face masking her turmoil. "That's your business. What you do with your money has nothing to do with me."

He could give his gifts to whoever he wanted. Giving it to her was probably just another way to humiliate her, a reminder of her place whenever Yelena was around.

"If it's not that, then why are you acting like this?"

Her heart twisted.

When he showed up today and refused to leave, she had almost deluded herself into thinking he still cared for her, even a little. But it was painfully clear now—he didn't. There wasn't a shred of marital affection left.

The air in the room grew heavy.

He didn't let her go, easily feeling the rigid hostility radiating from her body.

Eventually, he released his grip and broke the silence. "If you look at pharmacological research—or any industry, really—monopolizing the field isn't sustainable. Growth only comes from collaboration."

Whitley swallowed hard.

It must have been so difficult for him to stoop to playing the negotiator. With his level of influence, adding Yelena to the project should have only taken a single phone call.

"You pushed Yelena. She's choosing not to hold it against you. Letting her join this project can serve as your apology."

Whitley turned to look at him in disbelief. "So you genuinely think I pushed her on purpose?"

The glass walls of the executive conference room were perfectly soundproofed, yet the tension radiating from the people inside was palpable.

Chisholm Vance sat at the head of the table, his eyes locked on the arrogant, white-haired man sitting across from him.

Dr. Landon was an absolute titan in the medical research field. He was the chief architect of PurePath's most vital government contract. He held the keys to core technologies and industry resources—a man they absolutely could not afford to cross.

The meeting had been going on for half an hour. What had started as a cordial discussion was rapidly deteriorating into a standoff.

Dr. Landon took a sip from his porcelain teacup and set it down with a soft clink. He looked up at Chisholm. "Chisholm, let's stop dancing around the issue."

"Ms. Yelena Nash has returned to the country. Her talent and connections in pharmacology are undeniable."

"I want her brought onto the PurePath team to co-lead this clinical trial."

Chisholm's brow furrowed slightly, unable to mask his immediate distaste.

He knew exactly why Yelena was doing this. He knew all about the messy, painful history between her and Whitley, and he was fully aware that Clive Sherwood was the one pulling the strings behind the curtain.