His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 38

She was so tired. Bone-tired.

She lowered her gaze, her voice dropping to a trembling whisper. "Clive, let's just get a divorce."

Clive's expression remained entirely impassive, not a single ripple disrupting his calm.

His lips parted slightly. "Whitley, my career doesn't need a fake marriage to survive."

"You're too emotional right now to have a rational conversation. Nothing you say in this state counts. I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

Whitley's eyes went cold.

He looked down at her, his dark gaze heavy and oppressive. "But Whitley, I highly suggest you remember what I said earlier."

With that, he didn't spare her another glance. He turned and walked directly upstairs toward his study.

Ruthless. Cold.

Absolute control.

His word was law.

He was a man accustomed to navigating global crises, wielding top-tier influence on an international scale.

To him, a divorce was an utterly trivial annoyance.

Whitley stood frozen in the middle of the room, feeling as though every ounce of strength had been drained from her body. A crushing sense of powerlessness swallowed her whole.

It was like punching a wall of water.

Clive always seemed so composed, never even raising his voice.

But his calmness was a velvet glove hiding a razor blade. It sliced you when you least expected it, and it hurt worse than any screaming match ever could.

Standing in the sprawling living room, she felt freezing cold. This house, where she had lived for years, was nothing more than a high-security prison.

Whitley's heart stopped. "I'm on my way."

She grabbed her coat and sprinted out of the house like a madwoman, driving recklessly toward the hospital.

When she reached the ICU waiting area, Josiah, Martha, and Lamont were already there. They looked absolutely haggard, their eyes bloodshot from exhaustion.

Seeing Whitley, Martha burst into tears and grabbed her hand, unable to form words.

Whitley was sick with panic, desperately asking for an update.

At that moment, the attending physician approached, his expression grim. "The patient's condition is critical. We need to administer emergency treatment immediately. But your account is severely overdrawn. You have to pay the balance right now, or we legally cannot proceed with the procedures."

Whitley's stomach dropped. She knew better than anyone how dire her family's finances were. They were already drowning in debt.

Years ago, they had drained their savings to fund Yelena's education. Yelena had always lived a lavish lifestyle, and the financial burden had fallen squarely on Josiah's shoulders. Now, with Winona's illness, they had borrowed from everyone they knew. They were completely tapped out.

With absolutely no other option, Whitley pulled out the black credit card Clive had given her.