Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 112: Chapter 112
You are reading Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back, Chapter 112: Chapter 112. Read more chapters of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back.
Julian's expression darkened. "Annie, enough. If she thinks the Bennett family's troubles have nothing to do with her, then from today on we don't need her involvement."
He fixed Elena with a hard stare. "Don't bother coming back to Bennett Corporation. Our projects don't need you, and we won't spend another cent on you."
"That phone was bought with Mom's money too, wasn't it? Hand it over," Julian ordered.
Annabelle, standing closest, yanked the phone from Elena's grasp.
Julian's gaze remained frigid. "The servant quarters are for servants—you don't qualify."
"From now on you'll sleep in the basement. Someone, lock her up!" he commanded.
Elena's eyes flew wide, her face turning ghost-white. "What right do you have to imprison me?"
"For the twenty years the Bennett family fed and raised you," Julian shot back.
With that, he and two servants pinned her arms and flung her into the basement.
The parents she had called Mom and Dad for twenty years merely looked on, expressionless.
The basement was so damp and frigid it felt colder than the night air outside.
A single dim bulb flickered overhead.
Elena curled up on a rough wooden plank, burying her head between her knees.
She had no idea how long they intended to keep her here; cut off from the world, she feared they could leave her to die and no one would ever know.
Evening fell.
After dinner Adaline instructed a servant to bring Elena some food.
Annabelle watched the maid carry the tray out and hurried after her.
"Give me the tray—I'll take it to my sister," Annabelle said with a pleasant smile.
"Very well, Second Miss—thank you," the maid replied.
Annabelle accepted the bowl, smiling sweetly.
She crossed the courtyard to the back yard and dumped every grain of food into the trash.
A vicious smile curved her lips. "Hungry? Not a chance. Let them keep you down there ten days or half a month—starve if you must. Then Brother and Mom will be branded murderers, and the Bennett family will be all mine."
Business at Bennett Corporation kept sliding downhill, and the only lifeline left was a joint venture with the Whitmore Group.
Yet ever since Simon Whitmore abruptly halted the project, work had stayed frozen, delayed again and again.
Julian Bennett gave Director Grace an ultimatum—if she couldn't resolve the matter within two days, she could pack up and leave.
Helpless, Grace sensed that Simon was deliberately making things hard for her, so she hurried back to the Whitmore Group to request another audience.
She waited downstairs all morning, bowing and scraping, before she finally caught sight of a member of Simon's entourage.
Grace said, "President Whitmore, may we discuss the project? If we have done anything wrong, please tell me directly. I'm slow-witted, but I'm willing to learn."
Simon, who had almost forgotten the whole affair, thought for a moment and replied, "Have your President Bennett come see me in person."
With that, his car shot off like an arrow.
Grace hurried back and relayed the message to Julian.
Julian felt uneasy; it seemed as though Simon held some personal grudge against the Bennett family.
He knew nothing good could come of meeting Simon, but the project was the company's only hope, so he had no choice.
'Fine,' he thought, 'let's see what kind of game Simon Whitmore is playing.'
Julian rang Simon's assistant and secured a dinner appointment that evening at Westhaven Clubhouse.
At six o'clock he arrived with Grace in tow.
He fixed Elena with a hard stare. "Don't bother coming back to Bennett Corporation. Our projects don't need you, and we won't spend another cent on you."
"That phone was bought with Mom's money too, wasn't it? Hand it over," Julian ordered.
Annabelle, standing closest, yanked the phone from Elena's grasp.
Julian's gaze remained frigid. "The servant quarters are for servants—you don't qualify."
"From now on you'll sleep in the basement. Someone, lock her up!" he commanded.
Elena's eyes flew wide, her face turning ghost-white. "What right do you have to imprison me?"
"For the twenty years the Bennett family fed and raised you," Julian shot back.
With that, he and two servants pinned her arms and flung her into the basement.
The parents she had called Mom and Dad for twenty years merely looked on, expressionless.
The basement was so damp and frigid it felt colder than the night air outside.
A single dim bulb flickered overhead.
Elena curled up on a rough wooden plank, burying her head between her knees.
She had no idea how long they intended to keep her here; cut off from the world, she feared they could leave her to die and no one would ever know.
Evening fell.
After dinner Adaline instructed a servant to bring Elena some food.
Annabelle watched the maid carry the tray out and hurried after her.
"Give me the tray—I'll take it to my sister," Annabelle said with a pleasant smile.
"Very well, Second Miss—thank you," the maid replied.
Annabelle accepted the bowl, smiling sweetly.
She crossed the courtyard to the back yard and dumped every grain of food into the trash.
A vicious smile curved her lips. "Hungry? Not a chance. Let them keep you down there ten days or half a month—starve if you must. Then Brother and Mom will be branded murderers, and the Bennett family will be all mine."
Business at Bennett Corporation kept sliding downhill, and the only lifeline left was a joint venture with the Whitmore Group.
Yet ever since Simon Whitmore abruptly halted the project, work had stayed frozen, delayed again and again.
Julian Bennett gave Director Grace an ultimatum—if she couldn't resolve the matter within two days, she could pack up and leave.
Helpless, Grace sensed that Simon was deliberately making things hard for her, so she hurried back to the Whitmore Group to request another audience.
She waited downstairs all morning, bowing and scraping, before she finally caught sight of a member of Simon's entourage.
Grace said, "President Whitmore, may we discuss the project? If we have done anything wrong, please tell me directly. I'm slow-witted, but I'm willing to learn."
Simon, who had almost forgotten the whole affair, thought for a moment and replied, "Have your President Bennett come see me in person."
With that, his car shot off like an arrow.
Grace hurried back and relayed the message to Julian.
Julian felt uneasy; it seemed as though Simon held some personal grudge against the Bennett family.
He knew nothing good could come of meeting Simon, but the project was the company's only hope, so he had no choice.
'Fine,' he thought, 'let's see what kind of game Simon Whitmore is playing.'
Julian rang Simon's assistant and secured a dinner appointment that evening at Westhaven Clubhouse.
At six o'clock he arrived with Grace in tow.
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