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 collectively

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

license plate number symbolized power, something even

Whose car was this?

stepped out, respectfully calling,

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

cloud of exhaust for the Valentine family to

were abuzz. “Who has Whitney gotten involved with? That license plate–only the Lippert family in Banyan City

1/3

15:00

Chapter 27

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

but feigning sorrow,

How could Whitney know

to be his–all of her beauty, excellence, and capabilities

separate cars, he ahead and she following

contacted her, “Did I

had instructed Tiana to drug Monica and take her

dog

and everyone witnessed her supposed madness, making her institutionalization a

high society, you kicked her out again. And that resort contract won’t do her any

by her fake husband and missing her

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

for her to wait as he

smoke cleared, he approached her with the grace of

from the car. She knelt to greet them, her face softening. “They’re getting old,” she said. “My mother gave them to me. They’ve been with me through everything. I should’ve picked them up days ago. Thank you

again?” L

standing up in the evening breeze like

glanced at her lips, and

Without you, I wouldn’t have my dogs!”

“Hmph.”

shouldn’t use that license plate. The cops might not like it,

mouth twitched

sorry for the plate

they headed towards

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

pause and deep

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