Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 80: Chapter 80
You are reading Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back, Chapter 80: Chapter 80. Read more chapters of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back.
Mrs. Whitmore excused herself, and the long dining table grew silent; only Victor Whitmore and Elena Bennett remained.
Elena said, "President Whitmore, I'll be heading home now."
Victor barked, "Stop!" and surged forward, planting himself squarely in her path.
Elena asked, "President Whitmore, is there something else?"
Victor fixed her with a razor-sharp stare. "What exactly is going on between you and my uncle?"
Elena knitted her brows. "Yesterday was the first time I'd ever laid eyes on him—your grandfather's birthday, remember? What sort of relationship could I possibly have with him?"
Victor narrowed his eyes. "You're lying."
Elena let out a soft chuckle. "President Whitmore, I fail to see how any of this involves you."
Victor demanded, "You were drugged last night as well. When Annie burst into your room, where did you disappear to?"
Elena replied, "And what right do you have to police me? I'm free to go wherever I please. Our engagement is already void—who I see or what I do is none of your concern."
Victor snapped, "Sharp tongue, aren't you? Elena Bennett, I know you want revenge on Annie, but I'm warning you—stay away from him. Cross him and you'll regret it."
Elena curled her lip. "Hilarious. You're nobody to me, so my fate has nothing to do with you." With that, she shoved him aside and strode toward the door.
Victor stood frozen, an inexplicable irritation clawing at his chest.
He chased after her, shouting, "Elena Bennett, I'm advising you for old times' sake! Don't end up disgraced. Even if Grandpa forced me, I would never marry you again!"
She shot back, "Are you insane? Who on earth is clamoring to marry you? Are there no other men in the world?"
Victor growled, "Ignore kind advice and you'll regret it sooner or later!"
At that moment, a Rolls-Royce Phantom glided to a smooth halt at the curb.
The tinted window lowered, and Assistant Brian called from the driver's seat, "Miss Bennett, Mr. Whitmore asked me to take you home."
Eager to escape Victor, Elena climbed into the car without a word.
Moments later the sedan disappeared, and Victor vented his frustration by kicking a roadside stone.
When Elena reached the Bennett residence, she found Annabelle still buried in their mother's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. The entire family was present, arranged as though they'd convened a tribunal and were merely waiting for Elena to walk through the door. Unfazed, she slipped off her heels, murmured a polite greeting, and started toward the staircase.
Lawrence Bennett called after her in a deliberately gentle voice, "Elena, hold on a moment."
She turned halfway up the stairs. "Dad, what is it?"
He said, "Relax, I'm not here to blame you. Sir Whitmore's position is firm—begging won't change his mind."
Elena couldn't hide her surprise; she hadn't expected them to reach that conclusion so quickly.
Lawrence continued, "Your mother was wrong to drug you, and your sister is paying the price. I've thought it over—this past year you've suffered enough. As compensation, I'd like you to join the company. We're about to launch a joint project with the Whitmores, and I want you in charge."
Elena listened without expression. A year ago they groomed her as the heir, but ever since Annabelle's return, no one had even mentioned the company, let alone let her near its affairs. Now they suddenly invited her back—she doubted it was compensation; more likely they intended to use her again.
Julian Bennett immediately frowned. "No way! If anyone should head the project, it's Annie. This is a prime opportunity to show Sir Whitmore her capabilities."
Elena said, "President Whitmore, I'll be heading home now."
Victor barked, "Stop!" and surged forward, planting himself squarely in her path.
Elena asked, "President Whitmore, is there something else?"
Victor fixed her with a razor-sharp stare. "What exactly is going on between you and my uncle?"
Elena knitted her brows. "Yesterday was the first time I'd ever laid eyes on him—your grandfather's birthday, remember? What sort of relationship could I possibly have with him?"
Victor narrowed his eyes. "You're lying."
Elena let out a soft chuckle. "President Whitmore, I fail to see how any of this involves you."
Victor demanded, "You were drugged last night as well. When Annie burst into your room, where did you disappear to?"
Elena replied, "And what right do you have to police me? I'm free to go wherever I please. Our engagement is already void—who I see or what I do is none of your concern."
Victor snapped, "Sharp tongue, aren't you? Elena Bennett, I know you want revenge on Annie, but I'm warning you—stay away from him. Cross him and you'll regret it."
Elena curled her lip. "Hilarious. You're nobody to me, so my fate has nothing to do with you." With that, she shoved him aside and strode toward the door.
Victor stood frozen, an inexplicable irritation clawing at his chest.
He chased after her, shouting, "Elena Bennett, I'm advising you for old times' sake! Don't end up disgraced. Even if Grandpa forced me, I would never marry you again!"
She shot back, "Are you insane? Who on earth is clamoring to marry you? Are there no other men in the world?"
Victor growled, "Ignore kind advice and you'll regret it sooner or later!"
At that moment, a Rolls-Royce Phantom glided to a smooth halt at the curb.
The tinted window lowered, and Assistant Brian called from the driver's seat, "Miss Bennett, Mr. Whitmore asked me to take you home."
Eager to escape Victor, Elena climbed into the car without a word.
Moments later the sedan disappeared, and Victor vented his frustration by kicking a roadside stone.
When Elena reached the Bennett residence, she found Annabelle still buried in their mother's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. The entire family was present, arranged as though they'd convened a tribunal and were merely waiting for Elena to walk through the door. Unfazed, she slipped off her heels, murmured a polite greeting, and started toward the staircase.
Lawrence Bennett called after her in a deliberately gentle voice, "Elena, hold on a moment."
She turned halfway up the stairs. "Dad, what is it?"
He said, "Relax, I'm not here to blame you. Sir Whitmore's position is firm—begging won't change his mind."
Elena couldn't hide her surprise; she hadn't expected them to reach that conclusion so quickly.
Lawrence continued, "Your mother was wrong to drug you, and your sister is paying the price. I've thought it over—this past year you've suffered enough. As compensation, I'd like you to join the company. We're about to launch a joint project with the Whitmores, and I want you in charge."
Elena listened without expression. A year ago they groomed her as the heir, but ever since Annabelle's return, no one had even mentioned the company, let alone let her near its affairs. Now they suddenly invited her back—she doubted it was compensation; more likely they intended to use her again.
Julian Bennett immediately frowned. "No way! If anyone should head the project, it's Annie. This is a prime opportunity to show Sir Whitmore her capabilities."
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