Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 97: Chapter 97
You are reading Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back, Chapter 97: Chapter 97. Read more chapters of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back.
Julian jabbed a finger at her, raging, "Elena Bennett, hear me! Try filing that suit and see what happens. You think you can leave? Not a chance. You'll stay in this family all your life to repay what you owe!"
His words crashed over her like a bucket of ice water, flaying her to the bone.
Elena asked quietly, "Julian Bennett, are you threatening me?"
Julian barked, "So what if I am? I spoiled you for twenty years, fed you for twenty years—what can't I control? Even if—"
"Get out!" a gravelly voice thundered from behind, and a cane came down hard across Julian's back.
Julian spun, ready to curse—only to face Sir Whitmore, his expression black with fury.
Beside him, Simon Whitmore looked even more menacing.
Sir Whitmore swept his gaze over Elena on the hospital bed—oxygen tube at her nose, bruised face, wrists split and purple, leg encased in plaster.
The sight stabbed his heart; anger roared through him.
A guilty flicker crossed Julian's face when he saw Sir Whitmore.
Sir Whitmore jabbed him with the cane. "Move! A good dog doesn't block the way!"
Humiliated, Julian dared not talk back and shuffled aside.
Sir Whitmore stepped forward, incredulous. "All of this—he did it?"
"Sir Whitmore..." Elena's nose stung; tears nearly spilled.
Sir Whitmore roared, "She is your sister! Blood or not, you've lived together for twenty years—how could you lay a hand on her!"
His fury shook his voice.
Julian Bennett ground his teeth together. The sight of her in this state tore at him; the instant she had collapsed into the snow, he'd already regretted striking her so hard.
Yet the moment he pictured Annie—who had drifted alone for twenty years—being tarred and feathered because of Elena, rage flooded his chest again.
How had the two siblings come to this? She had once been the little sister he cherished most.
Julian's fingers tightened into a rock-hard fist.
Simon Whitmore stood beside Sir Whitmore, his gaze sweeping across Elena's face and pausing on every bruise and cut; each injury carved another slash through his heart.
Those famous, sparkling eyes were now clouded with thunderous fury. Though he merely stood there, an icy aura seeped from his pores.
The girl I treasure like a priceless jewel—how can she be worth nothing in anyone else's eyes?' Simon wondered.
He longed to brush her cheek but feared he would hurt her, wanted to gather her into his arms and soothe her, yet felt unworthy of either comfort.
After a heavy silence, he asked in a voice like rolling thunder, "Mr. Bennett, wasn't it only weeks ago you held a press conference flaunting your love for your sister and pledging your support for the Homes Without Violence initiative? Then you beat that same 'beloved' sister until her bones snapped and sent her straight to surgery. Aren't you ashamed?"
Murder seemed to simmer in Simon's eyes; no one would doubt he could kill.
Adaline's courage faltered—this young lord was someone they dared not anger.
Forcing a smile, she tried to protect her son. "Simon, Julian did use excessive force, but he had his reasons."
"What reasons?" Simon asked, turning to her.
His words crashed over her like a bucket of ice water, flaying her to the bone.
Elena asked quietly, "Julian Bennett, are you threatening me?"
Julian barked, "So what if I am? I spoiled you for twenty years, fed you for twenty years—what can't I control? Even if—"
"Get out!" a gravelly voice thundered from behind, and a cane came down hard across Julian's back.
Julian spun, ready to curse—only to face Sir Whitmore, his expression black with fury.
Beside him, Simon Whitmore looked even more menacing.
Sir Whitmore swept his gaze over Elena on the hospital bed—oxygen tube at her nose, bruised face, wrists split and purple, leg encased in plaster.
The sight stabbed his heart; anger roared through him.
A guilty flicker crossed Julian's face when he saw Sir Whitmore.
Sir Whitmore jabbed him with the cane. "Move! A good dog doesn't block the way!"
Humiliated, Julian dared not talk back and shuffled aside.
Sir Whitmore stepped forward, incredulous. "All of this—he did it?"
"Sir Whitmore..." Elena's nose stung; tears nearly spilled.
Sir Whitmore roared, "She is your sister! Blood or not, you've lived together for twenty years—how could you lay a hand on her!"
His fury shook his voice.
Julian Bennett ground his teeth together. The sight of her in this state tore at him; the instant she had collapsed into the snow, he'd already regretted striking her so hard.
Yet the moment he pictured Annie—who had drifted alone for twenty years—being tarred and feathered because of Elena, rage flooded his chest again.
How had the two siblings come to this? She had once been the little sister he cherished most.
Julian's fingers tightened into a rock-hard fist.
Simon Whitmore stood beside Sir Whitmore, his gaze sweeping across Elena's face and pausing on every bruise and cut; each injury carved another slash through his heart.
Those famous, sparkling eyes were now clouded with thunderous fury. Though he merely stood there, an icy aura seeped from his pores.
The girl I treasure like a priceless jewel—how can she be worth nothing in anyone else's eyes?' Simon wondered.
He longed to brush her cheek but feared he would hurt her, wanted to gather her into his arms and soothe her, yet felt unworthy of either comfort.
After a heavy silence, he asked in a voice like rolling thunder, "Mr. Bennett, wasn't it only weeks ago you held a press conference flaunting your love for your sister and pledging your support for the Homes Without Violence initiative? Then you beat that same 'beloved' sister until her bones snapped and sent her straight to surgery. Aren't you ashamed?"
Murder seemed to simmer in Simon's eyes; no one would doubt he could kill.
Adaline's courage faltered—this young lord was someone they dared not anger.
Forcing a smile, she tried to protect her son. "Simon, Julian did use excessive force, but he had his reasons."
"What reasons?" Simon asked, turning to her.
End of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back Chapter 97. Continue reading Chapter 98 or return to Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back book page.