Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 139: Chapter 139
You are reading Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back, Chapter 139: Chapter 139. Read more chapters of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back.
"It may be none of mine," Victor answered, "but her whole family is standing right here. Don't you think it's their business? Uncle, you have no right to whisk her away."
Julian and the others arrived just then; the hostility on their faces eased considerably the moment they recognized Simon.
"President Whitmore, my sister is still hospitalized," Julian said, restraining himself. "Please allow me to bring her back."
Simon clenched his fists to keep from punching someone, then lowered his head to Elena. "You tell them—who are you leaving with?"
Elena met Julian's eyes coldly. "From this moment on, I have nothing to do with the Bennett family." She then looked up at Simon Whitmore. "Simon, take me with you."
"Done," Simon replied.
"Wait!" Adaline rushed over.
"Elena, I know you're upset right now, but I'm still your mother. Even if you refuse to acknowledge me, I will always acknowledge you as my daughter. If you need to leave for a while to rest, go ahead—Mom will wait. Simon, I'm counting on you to look after her."
Simon's mouth curved in a chilly sneer. "Adaline, what a way with words—you've managed, in three sentences, to brand Elena an unfilial child. How about the Bennett family faces its own sins first? You wronged her; she did not disown you without cause."
With that, he scooped Elena into his arms and walked off.
Victor narrowed his eyes as the car pulled away. It was the first time Simon had protected a woman so fiercely; how far had things already gone between him and Elena? He refused to believe they were innocent.
Simon brought her back to his own home to recuperate and asked Samuel Shaw to examine her.
Samuel's brows knit when he saw the fresh bruises scattered across her body.
"They're mostly contusions," the doctor said gently. "A few days' rest will do."
Elena lay on the bed like a lifeless marionette. Seeing this, Samuel offered a few parting instructions and took his leave.
Simon sat at the bedside. "Stay here and focus on healing. Tell me what you'd like to eat and I'll cook it."
"No need," she whispered; right now she could swallow nothing.
He studied her for a long moment. "If you don't mind," he said softly, "you could come work at Whitmore Group."
Elena said nothing. Sensing she needed solitude, Simon tiptoed out of the bedroom.
Elena lay staring at the ceiling, replaying everything that had happened over the past days.
It was obvious Annabelle would never allow her to move her registration so easily, yet severing all ties with the Bennett family was the one thing Elena most desperately wanted right now.
The Bennetts were united, and on her own she had almost no chance of getting hold of the booklet.
Maybe she ought to lean on the towering oak that was Simon Whitmore.
She climbed out of bed and found Simon in the living room.
He was lounging on the sofa, a cigarette between his fingers. When he saw her, he blew out a lazy ring of smoke, stubbed out the half-finished cigarette, and asked, "Why are you up?"
"I have something to ask you," Elena said after a long hesitation.
Simon tapped the empty cushion beside him with his chin, inviting her to sit.
Sitting primly, Elena came straight to the point. "Why are you so good to me?"
Simon froze, his dark eyes narrowing. He didn't answer right away; those black irises fixed on her, harboring emotions she could not decipher.
When no reply came, Elena kneaded her palm and continued softly, "If you're trying to repay me for saving your life, you've long since done more than enough."
Julian and the others arrived just then; the hostility on their faces eased considerably the moment they recognized Simon.
"President Whitmore, my sister is still hospitalized," Julian said, restraining himself. "Please allow me to bring her back."
Simon clenched his fists to keep from punching someone, then lowered his head to Elena. "You tell them—who are you leaving with?"
Elena met Julian's eyes coldly. "From this moment on, I have nothing to do with the Bennett family." She then looked up at Simon Whitmore. "Simon, take me with you."
"Done," Simon replied.
"Wait!" Adaline rushed over.
"Elena, I know you're upset right now, but I'm still your mother. Even if you refuse to acknowledge me, I will always acknowledge you as my daughter. If you need to leave for a while to rest, go ahead—Mom will wait. Simon, I'm counting on you to look after her."
Simon's mouth curved in a chilly sneer. "Adaline, what a way with words—you've managed, in three sentences, to brand Elena an unfilial child. How about the Bennett family faces its own sins first? You wronged her; she did not disown you without cause."
With that, he scooped Elena into his arms and walked off.
Victor narrowed his eyes as the car pulled away. It was the first time Simon had protected a woman so fiercely; how far had things already gone between him and Elena? He refused to believe they were innocent.
Simon brought her back to his own home to recuperate and asked Samuel Shaw to examine her.
Samuel's brows knit when he saw the fresh bruises scattered across her body.
"They're mostly contusions," the doctor said gently. "A few days' rest will do."
Elena lay on the bed like a lifeless marionette. Seeing this, Samuel offered a few parting instructions and took his leave.
Simon sat at the bedside. "Stay here and focus on healing. Tell me what you'd like to eat and I'll cook it."
"No need," she whispered; right now she could swallow nothing.
He studied her for a long moment. "If you don't mind," he said softly, "you could come work at Whitmore Group."
Elena said nothing. Sensing she needed solitude, Simon tiptoed out of the bedroom.
Elena lay staring at the ceiling, replaying everything that had happened over the past days.
It was obvious Annabelle would never allow her to move her registration so easily, yet severing all ties with the Bennett family was the one thing Elena most desperately wanted right now.
The Bennetts were united, and on her own she had almost no chance of getting hold of the booklet.
Maybe she ought to lean on the towering oak that was Simon Whitmore.
She climbed out of bed and found Simon in the living room.
He was lounging on the sofa, a cigarette between his fingers. When he saw her, he blew out a lazy ring of smoke, stubbed out the half-finished cigarette, and asked, "Why are you up?"
"I have something to ask you," Elena said after a long hesitation.
Simon tapped the empty cushion beside him with his chin, inviting her to sit.
Sitting primly, Elena came straight to the point. "Why are you so good to me?"
Simon froze, his dark eyes narrowing. He didn't answer right away; those black irises fixed on her, harboring emotions she could not decipher.
When no reply came, Elena kneaded her palm and continued softly, "If you're trying to repay me for saving your life, you've long since done more than enough."
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