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.

approached, and when

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

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

Whose car was this?

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

the lady of the house, which suggested L’s directive. With a knowing smile, Whitney swept past the stunned Monica, Yvonne, and Preston, and gracefully got into

Bugatti Veyron sped off, leaving a cloud of exhaust for the

involved with? That license plate–only

1/3

15:00

Chapter 27

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

but feigning sorrow, added, “She’s disgraced

Whitney

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

traveled in separate cars, he ahead and she following

urgently contacted her, “Did

drug Monica and take her to the

had bought some dog meat to stage the

derailed, and everyone witnessed her

kicked her out again. And that resort

distracted by her fake husband and missing her nemesis’s

from the car. L, already there, stood elegantly, smoking a cigarette–a

nodded for her to wait as he

cleared, he approached her

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.

again?” L raised

in the

lips, and his fingers loosened

you, L. Without you, I wouldn’t have my

“Hmph.”

her. “But you really shouldn’t use that license plate. The cops might not like

mouth twitched

grimaced, feeling sorry for the plate for being mistaken as a

they headed towards the

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

deep