Love Beyond the Mask by Adelaide Sinclair

Whitney raised an eyebrow and looked at Monica with amusement as if she were watching a court jester perform.

Standing beside her, L. towered with an impeccable posture, blatantly ignoring Monica as if she were beneath

his notice.

‘Let’s get going,” he said, turning with an air of distinction.

Whitney followed him, delicate and soft, which only made him seem more imposing.

Simon watched from behind, his eyes simmering with an intense, fiery anger,

“Whitney!” He barked, halting her in her tracks.

Monica’s face soured instantly.

Whitney paused, and L. glanced at her. “I need to take a call. The driver will pick you up. Can you handle that?”

She nodded with a faint smile.

With a cool glance back, Whitney watched Simon approach, eyeing L as he walked away to take his call. “Who the hell is that guy?” Simon demanded.

“None of your damn business.”

“How can you associate with riffraff? Whitney, have you sunk so low?”

“At least I’m not scavenging for coins in the gutter.”

Her words stung Monica and Simon, and onlookers struggled to suppress their laughter.

Monica’s face turned icy while Simon’s expression grew colder. He grabbed Whitney’s hand and sneered, “Riffraff without a car, right? He’s probably riding a motorcycle. I’ll take you home!”

The sound of his car keys jingled, and the headlights of a Lamborghini flashed.

Monica feigned concern as she approached. “Oh dear sister, you must have walked here, right? You should be careful, especially being pregnant, even if the father’s identity is a mystery. Let Simon and me take you home. What if something happens to you on that motorcycle?”

The elite ladies nearby cast disdainful glances at Whitney. As beautiful as she was, it baffled them why she would be with a thug.

Whitney remained silent.

the unmistakable roar of an ultra–luxury car approached, and when the onlookers recognized it, they

one–of–a–kind, limited edition Bugatti Veyron–not just the car, but the consecutive numbers on the license plate left Simon and

license plate number symbolized power, something even the elite of Banyan City

Whose car was this?

stepped out, respectfully calling, “Ms. Valentine, your car is

Ms. Valentine, not as the lady of the house, which suggested L’s directive. With a knowing

Veyron sped off, leaving a cloud of exhaust

“Who has Whitney gotten involved with? That license

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15:00

Chapter 27

involved with the Lippert family!” Yvonne interjected with scorn. “She’s ruined. She’s

but feigning sorrow, added,

sour. How could Whitney know a

within him. Whitney was supposed to be his–all of her

cars, he

her, “Did I do well,

instructed Tiana to drug Monica and take her to the

some dog

derailed, and everyone witnessed her supposed madness, making

Monica–just as she stepped into high society, you kicked her out again. And that resort contract won’t do her any good now, haha,” Tiana said cheerfully. “By the way, did

replied, distracted by her fake husband and missing her nemesis’s handsome

there, stood elegantly, smoking a cigarette–a mature man with a dangerously

her to wait as

cleared, he approached her with the

face softening. “They’re getting old,” she said. “My mother gave them to me. They’ve been with me

again?” L raised an

up in the

her lips, and his fingers loosened his Windsor–knotted

you, L. Without you, I wouldn’t have my dogs!” She said, stepping closer to

“Hmph.”

you really shouldn’t

twitched

for the plate for being mistaken as

headed towards the

formal attire, suggesting he had been at an important event. “Did you come back

deep