Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 28: Chapter 28
You are reading Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back, Chapter 28: Chapter 28. Read more chapters of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back.
Having her scheme laid bare, the heiress' face darkened with humiliation and fury. "How dare you turn this back on me! Are you stripping or not?"
Elena straightened her spine and pronounced each word with icy clarity. "I'm afraid I must refuse."
The heiress' expression hardened. "Then don't blame us for getting rough!"
At that, several heiresses surged forward together, seized Elena's arms, and yanked at the scarf around her neck.
The scarf came off, revealing the worn clothing beneath. One of them sneered, "What trash are you wearing? Disgusting! Strip her!"
They clawed at her clothes while viciously wrenching her arms and shoulders.
Pain lanced through Elena; she drew a sharp breath and fought to break free.
But her slender body was no match for their strength. Her resistance only ended with them pinning her to the floor.
"Shameless thief! I'll teach you a lesson for Annabelle today, you filthy wretch!"
With that, the woman lifted a wineglass and poured red wine over Elena's head.
"Ha-ha-ha! Look at her—she's hideous, like a mangy dog!"
Laughter erupted all around. "She's revolting. Sharing the same air with her makes my skin crawl. Should we toss her into the pool?"
Exchanging a glance, the heiresses reached agreement, hauled Elena upright, and dragged her toward the pool in the center of the terrace.
Banquet Hall
From a distance, Annabelle Bennett watched the scene unfolding on the terrace and curved her lips in satisfaction.
Seeing Elena utterly powerless thrilled her; the only regret was not being able to handle Elena herself.
Her fingers tightened, unconsciously squeezing Victor Whitmore's arm.
Victor lowered his head. "What are you thinking about?"
Annabelle snapped back to herself, hastily turning his body so his back faced the terrace. "Nothing—I'm just so happy it feels unreal."
Victor gave a faint smile. "I'm going out for a smoke."
As he started toward the doors, Annabelle grabbed him. "Victor, I'll come with you. Let's go upstairs."
He frowned slightly but did not refuse.
Just as he stepped onto the staircase, a familiar cry seemed to reach his ears.
He stopped abruptly and looked outside.
From his higher vantage, everything on the terrace lay in full view.
The woman being forced toward the pool was—Elena Bennett!
Annabelle's eyes flew wide. "Victor, what's wrong? Let's go—"
Before she could finish, Victor shoved her aside and strode toward the terrace at top speed.
Annabelle's heart plummeted; in that instant she wished Elena would simply die.
The heiresses shoved Elena hard toward the water. She clung to the pool's edge with all her strength, only to have sharp stiletto heels viciously kick the backs of her hands.
Just as her fingers gave way, a powerful hand yanked her back to safety.
She tumbled into a warm embrace.
Victor Whitmore's dark eyes smoldered; after studying her for several seconds, he finally looked up at the heiresses who had been tormenting her.
They stared in surprise, then spoke with self-righteous confidence. "President Whitmore, what brings you here? She stole something, and we're interrogating her. Please hand her back to us."
Victor's gaze settled on Elena. "Did you steal?"
Elena let out a ragged, forlorn laugh. "President Whitmore, would you like to help them call the police?"
Elena straightened her spine and pronounced each word with icy clarity. "I'm afraid I must refuse."
The heiress' expression hardened. "Then don't blame us for getting rough!"
At that, several heiresses surged forward together, seized Elena's arms, and yanked at the scarf around her neck.
The scarf came off, revealing the worn clothing beneath. One of them sneered, "What trash are you wearing? Disgusting! Strip her!"
They clawed at her clothes while viciously wrenching her arms and shoulders.
Pain lanced through Elena; she drew a sharp breath and fought to break free.
But her slender body was no match for their strength. Her resistance only ended with them pinning her to the floor.
"Shameless thief! I'll teach you a lesson for Annabelle today, you filthy wretch!"
With that, the woman lifted a wineglass and poured red wine over Elena's head.
"Ha-ha-ha! Look at her—she's hideous, like a mangy dog!"
Laughter erupted all around. "She's revolting. Sharing the same air with her makes my skin crawl. Should we toss her into the pool?"
Exchanging a glance, the heiresses reached agreement, hauled Elena upright, and dragged her toward the pool in the center of the terrace.
Banquet Hall
From a distance, Annabelle Bennett watched the scene unfolding on the terrace and curved her lips in satisfaction.
Seeing Elena utterly powerless thrilled her; the only regret was not being able to handle Elena herself.
Her fingers tightened, unconsciously squeezing Victor Whitmore's arm.
Victor lowered his head. "What are you thinking about?"
Annabelle snapped back to herself, hastily turning his body so his back faced the terrace. "Nothing—I'm just so happy it feels unreal."
Victor gave a faint smile. "I'm going out for a smoke."
As he started toward the doors, Annabelle grabbed him. "Victor, I'll come with you. Let's go upstairs."
He frowned slightly but did not refuse.
Just as he stepped onto the staircase, a familiar cry seemed to reach his ears.
He stopped abruptly and looked outside.
From his higher vantage, everything on the terrace lay in full view.
The woman being forced toward the pool was—Elena Bennett!
Annabelle's eyes flew wide. "Victor, what's wrong? Let's go—"
Before she could finish, Victor shoved her aside and strode toward the terrace at top speed.
Annabelle's heart plummeted; in that instant she wished Elena would simply die.
The heiresses shoved Elena hard toward the water. She clung to the pool's edge with all her strength, only to have sharp stiletto heels viciously kick the backs of her hands.
Just as her fingers gave way, a powerful hand yanked her back to safety.
She tumbled into a warm embrace.
Victor Whitmore's dark eyes smoldered; after studying her for several seconds, he finally looked up at the heiresses who had been tormenting her.
They stared in surprise, then spoke with self-righteous confidence. "President Whitmore, what brings you here? She stole something, and we're interrogating her. Please hand her back to us."
Victor's gaze settled on Elena. "Did you steal?"
Elena let out a ragged, forlorn laugh. "President Whitmore, would you like to help them call the police?"
End of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back Chapter 28. Continue reading Chapter 29 or return to Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back book page.