His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 40

Whitley's blood ran cold.

Once again, she was forced to witness the glaring difference between how he treated her and how he treated Yelena.

He ignored her calls completely. But when Yelena called, he answered so fast he must have been staring at the phone.

Barely a few seconds after Yelena spoke, a notification chimed on her phone.

Fifty thousand dollars. Sent without a second of hesitation.

"Is that enough?" his voice asked through the receiver.

Yelena smiled brightly. "Fifty thousand should cover it. Thank you so much, Clive."

Listening to this, Whitley felt a profound, suffocating sense of absurdity.

She had called him over and over, begging for her grandmother's life, and he hadn't even bothered to pick up.

Yet all it took was one word, one soft plea from Yelena, and he instantly wired fifty thousand dollars. No questions asked.

That was the difference.

That was the astronomical gap between where she stood and where Yelena stood in his heart.

She had always known it.

But seeing it play out right in front of her was a completely different kind of torture.

Josiah frowned as he watched Whitley.

He glanced at Yelena and said flatly, "We'll pay him back."

Yelena pouted slightly. "Josiah, don't say that. She's my grandmother too. It's the least I can do."

Lamont and Martha remained in heavy silence.

With the bill paid, the doctor immediately returned to the ICU to resume the lifesaving procedures.

They all waited in the sterile hallway.

Lamont and Martha sat on the stiff plastic chairs, their faces deeply lined with anxiety. They looked as if they had aged a decade in a single night.

Josiah stood nearby, pacing restlessly, his eyes locked on the ICU doors.

Whitley stood completely alone, leaning against the freezing wall. The cold seeped into her skin as despair slowly consumed her.

That single word was enough to make the Director look incredibly relieved. He bowed slightly and stepped back, not daring to overstay his welcome.

Josiah, Lamont, and Martha watched the exchange with complex expressions, but none of them spoke.

Regardless of everything else, Clive had just fronted fifty thousand dollars to save Winona's life. They couldn't afford to show him any hostility. They stood up and offered him polite, stiff nods, acknowledging him with painful formality.

Clive's gaze swept over the family before landing on Yelena standing nearby. His sharp features instantly softened.

"You're still recovering," he murmured. "The air quality in here is terrible, and it's too crowded. Go back to your room and rest. I'll handle things here."

Yelena beamed, playing the perfect picture of obedience. She nodded gently. "Okay, I'll listen to you. Thank you for taking care of this, Clive."

Whitley took in the entire scene without saying a word. She kept her eyes blank, pretending she hadn't seen a thing.

Once Yelena left, Clive finally turned his attention to Whitley. He walked over and sat down on the empty chair right beside her.

They were so close.

So close that Whitley was instantly enveloped in his faint cedarwood scent. Every muscle in her body locked up, her skin crawling with discomfort.

He turned his head to look at her. His voice betrayed absolutely no emotion. "I was at home. When your grandmother collapsed, you should have come to me first. Why did you run out here all by yourself?"