Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 115: Chapter 115
You are reading Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back, Chapter 115: Chapter 115. Read more chapters of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back.
Adaline and Lawrence bolted for home; Bennett Corporation was already cash-strapped, inventory piling up and no money returning. If this project collapsed, the cash flow would seize up completely and bankruptcy would stare them in the face.
Bursting through the front door, Adaline shouted, "Get the keys—let Elena out, now!"
Annabelle Bennett dashed from her room. "Mom, what's happening? What's going on?"
"Your brother says Simon Whitmore wants your sister to take charge of the project personally. If she doesn't, everything stays on hold," Adaline said, her voice frantic with urgency.
Annabelle Bennett furrowed her brows hard and said, "But Elena is useless, Mom.
If she hadn't messed up, the project wouldn't be in trouble at all. Are you sure you really want her back? If she ruins things again, won't we lose more than we gain?"
"We can't afford to think about that right now," Adaline insisted.
Fury buzzed beneath Annabelle's skin; she clenched her fists so tight her nails dug into her palms.
Why set her free now? Two or three more days without food or water and even the Almighty couldn't have saved her. Just then the servant arrived with a key and turned the lock.
Adaline called softly, "Elena?"
The basement was pitch-dark; Adaline's eyes needed a moment to adjust, and she couldn't immediately spot Elena. A wave of damp, moldy air rolled out, and Annabelle wrinkled her nose, fanning the stench away.
Annabelle muttered, "Where is she?"
Adaline peered for several seconds before finally noticing Elena curled into a tight ball on the wooden boards.
"Elena? Sweetheart, are you asleep? Wake up—Mom's here to take you out," Adaline coaxed.
Annabelle stared at her, not blinking once.
Annabelle thought, 'Three days... could three days without a bite really have killed her?'
She stepped closer and brushed Elena's hand; to her shock it was as cold as ice. Adaline called her name over and over, yet Elena didn't stir.
"Elena? Elena, what's wrong? Wake up—please!" Adaline cried.
Annabelle flicked on her flashlight and aimed the beam at Elena's face. The light revealed skin as white as paper and lips cracked open from thirst.
Adaline screamed in shock, "Elena! Elena, what's happening? Wake up!"
Panic-stricken, she muttered to herself, "What do we do? If something happens to Elena, Simon Whitmore will pull out of our partnership—then what?"
At that moment a set of tires shrieked to a halt in the courtyard. A tall, imposing figure burst through the doorway, and when Adaline and Lawrence realized it was Simon Whitmore, a chill slid down their spines.
"Simon... Elena, she—" Adaline began, voice trembling.
Simon's gaze landed on the barely breathing woman, and a storm darkened his expression.
He strode forward, scooped her into his arms, and felt her hands and feet, icy to the touch.
His grip tightened, desperate to warm her. Had he not caught the faintest wisp of breath, he might have believed he was holding a corpse.
Elena's voice was a murmur of air. "Water... I need water..."
Simon's eyes burned scarlet as he roared, "Bring water—now!"
A servant dashed off and soon returned with steaming water, which Simon carefully tipped against Elena's cracked lips, helping her swallow a few small sips.
Even afterward, her body remained limp, each breath heaving as if a thousand-pound slab were crushing her chest.
Adaline trembled violently and dared not utter a word.
Simon swept the room with a glacial stare. "How long have you kept her locked down here?"
"N-not long," Adaline stammered. "Just th-three days."
"Three days—and you denied her food and water," Simon ground out through clenched teeth.
Bursting through the front door, Adaline shouted, "Get the keys—let Elena out, now!"
Annabelle Bennett dashed from her room. "Mom, what's happening? What's going on?"
"Your brother says Simon Whitmore wants your sister to take charge of the project personally. If she doesn't, everything stays on hold," Adaline said, her voice frantic with urgency.
Annabelle Bennett furrowed her brows hard and said, "But Elena is useless, Mom.
If she hadn't messed up, the project wouldn't be in trouble at all. Are you sure you really want her back? If she ruins things again, won't we lose more than we gain?"
"We can't afford to think about that right now," Adaline insisted.
Fury buzzed beneath Annabelle's skin; she clenched her fists so tight her nails dug into her palms.
Why set her free now? Two or three more days without food or water and even the Almighty couldn't have saved her. Just then the servant arrived with a key and turned the lock.
Adaline called softly, "Elena?"
The basement was pitch-dark; Adaline's eyes needed a moment to adjust, and she couldn't immediately spot Elena. A wave of damp, moldy air rolled out, and Annabelle wrinkled her nose, fanning the stench away.
Annabelle muttered, "Where is she?"
Adaline peered for several seconds before finally noticing Elena curled into a tight ball on the wooden boards.
"Elena? Sweetheart, are you asleep? Wake up—Mom's here to take you out," Adaline coaxed.
Annabelle stared at her, not blinking once.
Annabelle thought, 'Three days... could three days without a bite really have killed her?'
She stepped closer and brushed Elena's hand; to her shock it was as cold as ice. Adaline called her name over and over, yet Elena didn't stir.
"Elena? Elena, what's wrong? Wake up—please!" Adaline cried.
Annabelle flicked on her flashlight and aimed the beam at Elena's face. The light revealed skin as white as paper and lips cracked open from thirst.
Adaline screamed in shock, "Elena! Elena, what's happening? Wake up!"
Panic-stricken, she muttered to herself, "What do we do? If something happens to Elena, Simon Whitmore will pull out of our partnership—then what?"
At that moment a set of tires shrieked to a halt in the courtyard. A tall, imposing figure burst through the doorway, and when Adaline and Lawrence realized it was Simon Whitmore, a chill slid down their spines.
"Simon... Elena, she—" Adaline began, voice trembling.
Simon's gaze landed on the barely breathing woman, and a storm darkened his expression.
He strode forward, scooped her into his arms, and felt her hands and feet, icy to the touch.
His grip tightened, desperate to warm her. Had he not caught the faintest wisp of breath, he might have believed he was holding a corpse.
Elena's voice was a murmur of air. "Water... I need water..."
Simon's eyes burned scarlet as he roared, "Bring water—now!"
A servant dashed off and soon returned with steaming water, which Simon carefully tipped against Elena's cracked lips, helping her swallow a few small sips.
Even afterward, her body remained limp, each breath heaving as if a thousand-pound slab were crushing her chest.
Adaline trembled violently and dared not utter a word.
Simon swept the room with a glacial stare. "How long have you kept her locked down here?"
"N-not long," Adaline stammered. "Just th-three days."
"Three days—and you denied her food and water," Simon ground out through clenched teeth.
End of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back Chapter 115. Continue reading Chapter 116 or return to Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back book page.