Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 57: Chapter 57
You are reading Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back, Chapter 57: Chapter 57. Read more chapters of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back.
Words failed Elena; all she could feel was the agonizing tightness in her lungs, every breath a struggle.
Only then did Victor grasp how severe the reaction was; he whipped out his phone to call Sir Whitmore, but the line cut off before a single ring.
He didn't hesitate. Scooping Elena into his arms, he charged across the corridor and drove his heel against the door.
Five, six brutal kicks later the panel splintered and crashed inward with a thunderous bang that sent everyone inside the guest suite reeling toward the noise.
Cradling her protectively, Victor strode out in full view of the startled guests.
Annabelle gaped at them, then hurried forward and asked, "Victor, what's wrong with my sister?"
Victor didn't bother to answer; the girl was blocking his path, so he simply brushed past her, face dark, and rushed down the stairs.
Annabelle's knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists. Adaline slipped an arm around her daughter's shoulders and whispered, "What happened? Why was Victor in Elena's room?"
Grinding her teeth, Annabelle forced a bright smile. "Maybe my sister needed something from him."
Julian snapped, "If she needed help, couldn't she have come to me? Why run to Victor Whitmore? What's she up to? I swear I'm going to teach her a lesson today!"
Annabelle grabbed his arm. "Julian, don't. It's Grandpa's birthday party—making a scene would only spoil it."
Adaline sighed. "If I'd known this would happen, I should have insisted you two switch rooms."
"It's all right, Mom. I trust Victor. Let's go see Elena—she looks sick," Annabelle said.
Victor reached the front desk and asked urgently, "Do you have anything for allergic reactions?"
A clerk produced the first-aid kit and handed him a box of antihistamines.
After Elena swallowed the tablets, Victor carried her to a sofa nearby and settled her so she could rest.
Word of the commotion had reached Sir Whitmore; he hurried over, almost tripping more than once in his haste.
"What happened to Ellie?" Sir Whitmore asked.
"She's just having an allergic reaction, Sir," Victor said. "She's taken the medication and should be fine."
Sir Whitmore stepped closer, heart aching for the girl. "Ellie, what triggers your allergy?"
"Seafood," Elena answered softly.
"I remember you only ate vegetables at the barbecue—there wasn't any seafood," Sir Whitmore said, puzzled.
"I had some cake inside—maybe it was something on that," she murmured.
Earlier she had bolted the pastry down whole, never guessing what ingredients might be hidden inside.
Sir Whitmore's brows knitted. "How could cake contain seafood? Someone, investigate the kitchen at once! Bring the pastry chef here!"
Moments later the chef was ushered before Sir Whitmore.
"Sir Whitmore, you wrong me!" the chef cried. "How could there be seafood in that cake? Look for yourself—none of the twenty desserts served tonight contains a trace!"
Of course—who puts seafood in sweets? The only explanation was that someone had tampered with her slice while she wasn't looking.
Before taking that first bite, the only people Elena had interacted with were Adaline and Annabelle.
The whole picture snapped into focus for Elena.
Annabelle offered a placid smile. "Grandpa, maybe Elena unknowingly ate seafood somewhere else. Sis, you've taken your medicine and you're feeling better, right? Since it's nothing major, let's not burden Grandpa on his birthday."
Elena knew that even if she exposed Annabelle, Adaline and Lawrence Bennett would shield the girl with every word they had.
For now she couldn't afford to tear the Bennetts apart—there was still too much unfinished business.
"You're right, Annie. And thank you, Brother-in-Law," Elena said.
Only then did Victor grasp how severe the reaction was; he whipped out his phone to call Sir Whitmore, but the line cut off before a single ring.
He didn't hesitate. Scooping Elena into his arms, he charged across the corridor and drove his heel against the door.
Five, six brutal kicks later the panel splintered and crashed inward with a thunderous bang that sent everyone inside the guest suite reeling toward the noise.
Cradling her protectively, Victor strode out in full view of the startled guests.
Annabelle gaped at them, then hurried forward and asked, "Victor, what's wrong with my sister?"
Victor didn't bother to answer; the girl was blocking his path, so he simply brushed past her, face dark, and rushed down the stairs.
Annabelle's knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists. Adaline slipped an arm around her daughter's shoulders and whispered, "What happened? Why was Victor in Elena's room?"
Grinding her teeth, Annabelle forced a bright smile. "Maybe my sister needed something from him."
Julian snapped, "If she needed help, couldn't she have come to me? Why run to Victor Whitmore? What's she up to? I swear I'm going to teach her a lesson today!"
Annabelle grabbed his arm. "Julian, don't. It's Grandpa's birthday party—making a scene would only spoil it."
Adaline sighed. "If I'd known this would happen, I should have insisted you two switch rooms."
"It's all right, Mom. I trust Victor. Let's go see Elena—she looks sick," Annabelle said.
Victor reached the front desk and asked urgently, "Do you have anything for allergic reactions?"
A clerk produced the first-aid kit and handed him a box of antihistamines.
After Elena swallowed the tablets, Victor carried her to a sofa nearby and settled her so she could rest.
Word of the commotion had reached Sir Whitmore; he hurried over, almost tripping more than once in his haste.
"What happened to Ellie?" Sir Whitmore asked.
"She's just having an allergic reaction, Sir," Victor said. "She's taken the medication and should be fine."
Sir Whitmore stepped closer, heart aching for the girl. "Ellie, what triggers your allergy?"
"Seafood," Elena answered softly.
"I remember you only ate vegetables at the barbecue—there wasn't any seafood," Sir Whitmore said, puzzled.
"I had some cake inside—maybe it was something on that," she murmured.
Earlier she had bolted the pastry down whole, never guessing what ingredients might be hidden inside.
Sir Whitmore's brows knitted. "How could cake contain seafood? Someone, investigate the kitchen at once! Bring the pastry chef here!"
Moments later the chef was ushered before Sir Whitmore.
"Sir Whitmore, you wrong me!" the chef cried. "How could there be seafood in that cake? Look for yourself—none of the twenty desserts served tonight contains a trace!"
Of course—who puts seafood in sweets? The only explanation was that someone had tampered with her slice while she wasn't looking.
Before taking that first bite, the only people Elena had interacted with were Adaline and Annabelle.
The whole picture snapped into focus for Elena.
Annabelle offered a placid smile. "Grandpa, maybe Elena unknowingly ate seafood somewhere else. Sis, you've taken your medicine and you're feeling better, right? Since it's nothing major, let's not burden Grandpa on his birthday."
Elena knew that even if she exposed Annabelle, Adaline and Lawrence Bennett would shield the girl with every word they had.
For now she couldn't afford to tear the Bennetts apart—there was still too much unfinished business.
"You're right, Annie. And thank you, Brother-in-Law," Elena said.
End of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back Chapter 57. Continue reading Chapter 58 or return to Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back book page.