Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 85: Chapter 85
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He understood: she wanted no connection to him, and the realization squeezed his throat until a helpless ache spread through his chest.
"Let me drive you home," he said.
Elena rose and offered a polite smile. "No, thank you, Young Master Simon. The ride I ordered is here." She stepped back and climbed into the waiting car.
Simon slipped behind the wheel of his own vehicle and followed at a discreet distance, remaining on her tail until she was safely inside her apartment building.
Only then did he pull over, take out his phone, and instruct, "Find out where Elena Bennett has been these past two days and what exactly she's been doing." Half an hour later Assistant Brian Change returned the call.
30 minutes later.
"President Whitmore," Brian reported, "Miss Bennett just started at Bennett Corporation. She's assigned to the Greenriver Project that partners with us. But her superiors are making things tough—today they had her on-site hauling bricks the entire day."
Simon's fingers clenched so hard around the metal phone that the alloy frame creaked.
"Find out who her immediate supervisor is, shut the project down, and stop all site work starting tomorrow. If anyone wants to know why, let that person come ask me in person," Simon ordered.
"Understood. I'll take care of it right away," Brian answered.
The next morning Elena arrived at headquarters to find Grace looking unwell.
The moment Elena appeared, Grace's scowl deepened; she tossed a pile of menial chores at Elena and vanished into her office. Three days in and Elena still hadn't touched any substantive part of the project.
By late morning she overheard colleagues whispering that the Greenriver Project had been halted at the client's request, though no one knew why.
Grace sent a staffer to liaise with the Whitmore Group and was told she had to see Simon Whitmore in person if she wanted an explanation. The news made Elena's heart jolt—she knew all too well she was hardly important enough for Simon to single her out.
Still, although anxiety churned in Grace's gut, she squared her shoulders and headed to the Whitmore Group building.
At the lobby entrance a security guard stopped her and asked, "Do you have an appointment?"
Giving her name, Grace said, "President Whitmore asked to see me. Would you please announce my arrival?"
The receptionist made a call; moments later Assistant Brian Change descended.
"Director Grace, correct?" Brian said.
"Yes. Are you here to take me upstairs to see President Whitmore?" she asked.
"I'm sorry," Brian replied. "The president is extremely busy at the moment—you'll need to wait outside for a while."
Director Grace nodded politely and headed toward the sofa.
Assistant Brian Change suddenly called her back, saying, "Director Grace, this area is for VIP guests. Please wait outside."
Following his gesture, she realized they meant for her to stand out in the freezing snow.
Brian smiled. "Ms. Grace, if it feels too cold, you may leave and come another day."
Grace's heart lurched; even with a hundred times her courage, she dared not walk away—one step now, and she might never be invited back.
Left with no choice, she stepped outside to wait.
A cutting wind whipped around her. She had come in nothing but a coat, never imagining such an ordeal. After thirty minutes, her teeth rattled and her fingers burned crimson with cold.
She held out a little longer, then decided she would retreat to her car; otherwise she had no idea when Simon Whitmore might finally meet her.
"Let me drive you home," he said.
Elena rose and offered a polite smile. "No, thank you, Young Master Simon. The ride I ordered is here." She stepped back and climbed into the waiting car.
Simon slipped behind the wheel of his own vehicle and followed at a discreet distance, remaining on her tail until she was safely inside her apartment building.
Only then did he pull over, take out his phone, and instruct, "Find out where Elena Bennett has been these past two days and what exactly she's been doing." Half an hour later Assistant Brian Change returned the call.
30 minutes later.
"President Whitmore," Brian reported, "Miss Bennett just started at Bennett Corporation. She's assigned to the Greenriver Project that partners with us. But her superiors are making things tough—today they had her on-site hauling bricks the entire day."
Simon's fingers clenched so hard around the metal phone that the alloy frame creaked.
"Find out who her immediate supervisor is, shut the project down, and stop all site work starting tomorrow. If anyone wants to know why, let that person come ask me in person," Simon ordered.
"Understood. I'll take care of it right away," Brian answered.
The next morning Elena arrived at headquarters to find Grace looking unwell.
The moment Elena appeared, Grace's scowl deepened; she tossed a pile of menial chores at Elena and vanished into her office. Three days in and Elena still hadn't touched any substantive part of the project.
By late morning she overheard colleagues whispering that the Greenriver Project had been halted at the client's request, though no one knew why.
Grace sent a staffer to liaise with the Whitmore Group and was told she had to see Simon Whitmore in person if she wanted an explanation. The news made Elena's heart jolt—she knew all too well she was hardly important enough for Simon to single her out.
Still, although anxiety churned in Grace's gut, she squared her shoulders and headed to the Whitmore Group building.
At the lobby entrance a security guard stopped her and asked, "Do you have an appointment?"
Giving her name, Grace said, "President Whitmore asked to see me. Would you please announce my arrival?"
The receptionist made a call; moments later Assistant Brian Change descended.
"Director Grace, correct?" Brian said.
"Yes. Are you here to take me upstairs to see President Whitmore?" she asked.
"I'm sorry," Brian replied. "The president is extremely busy at the moment—you'll need to wait outside for a while."
Director Grace nodded politely and headed toward the sofa.
Assistant Brian Change suddenly called her back, saying, "Director Grace, this area is for VIP guests. Please wait outside."
Following his gesture, she realized they meant for her to stand out in the freezing snow.
Brian smiled. "Ms. Grace, if it feels too cold, you may leave and come another day."
Grace's heart lurched; even with a hundred times her courage, she dared not walk away—one step now, and she might never be invited back.
Left with no choice, she stepped outside to wait.
A cutting wind whipped around her. She had come in nothing but a coat, never imagining such an ordeal. After thirty minutes, her teeth rattled and her fingers burned crimson with cold.
She held out a little longer, then decided she would retreat to her car; otherwise she had no idea when Simon Whitmore might finally meet her.
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