His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 89

The man's gaze dropped to the unworn dress draped over her arm. "Why haven't you changed? Do you need me to help you?"

Whitley had zero energy left to deal with him, her tone freezing. "No need. It'll fit. I'll take this one."

Clive shifted his gaze. When he looked at Yelena, his sharp features softened instinctively. "Do you like yours? If it doesn't fit right, we can find something else."

When it came to Yelena, he was an endless well of patience, warmth, and indulgence.

Whitley let out a soft scoff, looking him dead in the eye without saying a word.

Just wait for the divorce papers.

This was the very last time she would play this part. Once this charade was over, she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

She just wanted out of this marriage as fast as humanly possible.

Clive looked back at her, his face a mask of detached apathy. "The anniversary dinner. Be on time."

***

A few days later.

7:00 PM.

The grand banquet hall of the Sherwood Manor was ablaze with crystal chandeliers. The room was packed with the city's elite.

Business moguls, socialites, and extended family members were all dressed to the nines, waiting to witness the highly anticipated third anniversary of the Sherwood marriage.

Whitley arrived first, entirely alone.

In the sprawling, glittering hall, she stood quietly in a corner, looking completely out of place.

The guests shot her glances dripping with curiosity, scrutiny, and thinly veiled contempt.

"Is that Mrs. Sherwood? Why is she here by herself?"

"Mr. Sherwood still hasn't shown up. You don't think he's skipping his own anniversary, do you?"

"It's obvious he doesn't care about this milestone, and he certainly doesn't care about her."

"I heard that in their three years of marriage, he's barely taken her to any public events. Tonight is going to be incredibly embarrassing for her."

The venomous whispers drifted into Whitley's ears, but her face remained a mask of perfect serenity, acting as though she were completely deaf to them.

Bonnie sat at the head table, looking increasingly anxious. She kept glancing at the grand entrance, then turned to her assistant. "Call Clive again. Why isn't he here yet?"

The assistant dialed repeatedly, but the calls went straight to voicemail.

A relative sitting nearby shook their head with a sigh. "Stop calling. He's probably not coming."

Yelena was draped in a breathtaking haute couture gown from the latest season, looking absolutely radiant. The matching bracelet on her wrist caught the light, solidifying her image as the true lady of the house.

They walked in side by side. They maintained a polite distance, but they looked so incredibly perfect together it burned the eyes.

Instantly, every single gaze in the room zeroed in on them. The mockery that had been aimed at Whitley mere seconds ago morphed into fawning envy and admiration for Yelena.

"That's Ms. Nash, right? She's gorgeous. Standing next to Clive, they actually look like a real couple."

"So he was busy escorting a beauty. No wonder he was late."

"This isn't an anniversary dinner. This is him officially debuting his actual partner."

Whitley stood frozen, finding the entire spectacle hilariously pathetic.

Yelena already had a closet full of haute couture, yet she had purposely fought her for that dress in the boutique just to revel in the thrill of putting Whitley in her place.

And Clive indulged her behavior as if it were her birthright.

In his eyes, Whitley wasn't even worthy of picking up Yelena's discarded scraps.

Someone nearby whispered loudly, "So who exactly is the real Mrs. Sherwood tonight?"

"Whoever is standing next to him, obviously."