Love beyond the mask1-100

Novel Catalog

Chapter_41

Whitney stood still, confusion etched across her face as Monica’s words sliced through the air.

“Ha!” Monica laughed mockingly, her tone dripping with disdain. “Turns out he’s not here to save you, Whitney. Look at you—disgraced, abandoned. Not even the street thugs want you now. Pathetic. Hey, manager! Get them out of here!”

Parker, ever the quick-witted, rushed forward. “Bro, she’s pregnant! You’re seriously about to abandon your kid?”

L turned toward him, his gaze sharp and icy.

Parker immediately understood the silent message and faltered, his smirk fading as he stepped back.

Meanwhile, security seized Whitney and Tiana, ready to throw them out. Monica, a gleam of malice in her eyes, gestured for the socialites to push Whitney down the stairs.

Just as the first shove was made, a cold gust of air heralded Parker’s arrival. He pushed through the crowd, shoving the women aside, his voice booming. “Let those ladies go!”

Caught off guard and not recognizing him, Monica assumed he was just another street nobody. She sneered, “Who the heck are you to tell me what to do? Manager, don’t let them go. Throw them out, along with this guy!”

Parker, with an ever-thinning smile, addressed the manager. “What are you waiting for?”

The manager, pale as a ghost, now understood the gravity of the situation. His previous flattery toward Monica dissolved into disgust as he instructed security to encircle Monica and her group.

“What are you waiting for? Get them out of here!” the manager barked.

Monica’s face twisted in disbelief, her eyes wide. “Are you out of your mind? I’m a VIP member here, the darling of the Valentine Corporation. You wouldn’t dare…”

Her protest was met with swift action. The security guards grabbed Monica and Stella, dragging them toward the stairs. Monica stumbled, landing in a heap with a loud thud. Her hair and clothes were a disheveled mess. Stella, in her high heels, tumbled gracelessly to the floor below.

The scene unfolded before a room full of wealthy businessmen and socialites, some pulling out their phones to capture the spectacle.

Monica’s face turned a violent shade of red, fury flashing in her eyes. Stella, ever the celebrity, covered her face and screamed, “Stop filming!”

Tiana, standing at the top of the stairs, glanced down at the fallen women, a cold, mocking laugh escaping her lips. “Stella, this is the rising star you’ve been clinging to.”

Stella turned, her expression faltering at the sight of Whitney, whose face was devoid of any emotion.

Parker’s attention shifted to Whitney, who nodded at him in thanks. She recognized him as the man she had seen at the hospital, his eyes behind glasses that seemed to conceal a sharp intelligence.

“Your man’s dining in the other private suite. Want to join?” Parker asked with a grin.

Whitney thought of the man who hadn’t come to her aid and shook her head. “No, thanks.”

But Tiana, ever the opportunist, quickly caught on. “The man behind the mask? Of course, he’s Whitney’s enigmatic husband!”

Her eyes twinkled as she clung to Whitney. “Why not? It would be lovely for you two to dine together. I’m starving!”

Reluctantly, Whitney followed Tiana into the private suite, where the man’s presence immediately chilled the air. Tiana hesitated before speaking up. “You must be the renowned Mr. L, Whitney always speaks of you. Truly, meeting you exceeds all the rumors. You’re the epitome of elegance and maturity—truly a natural-born leader!”

The silence that followed felt as cold as the snow.

Tiana, still feeling out of place, nudged Whitney. “Go on, call him ‘honey.’”

Whitney, rigid and uncomfortable, pressed her lips together. She felt entirely out of place in this luxurious setting.

Parker, noticing the tension, cleared his throat and pulled out a chair for her. “Whitney, please, take a seat. Manager, the menu, please.”

The manager, ever respectful, presented two menus, one for Whitney and one for Mr. L.

“Just a few light dishes,” Mr. L spoke, his voice deep and commanding.

He settled back into his chair, his posture immaculate, his expression colder than ever.

Parker, with a mischievous grin, glanced at Whitney. “Why don’t you order some of your favorites?”

Whitney passed the menu to Tiana, who glared at her, signaling her disapproval.

Whitney, determined to remain composed, scanned the menu. “Let’s have some caramelized bananas, spicy braised lamb chops…”

Before she could finish, Tiana snatched the menu back, her voice sugary but laced with clear intent. “Whitney, I thought you preferred lighter fare, just like Mr. L? Besides, you’ve been so down lately—you’ve barely eaten a thing. Why pretend now?”

Inside, Whitney bristled. Tiana’s glare was sharp, a warning unspoken, before she glanced at the stoic man.

Whitney, irritated, wondered why she should cater to his tastes. But under the table, Tiana pinched her leg.

Hating the discomfort, Whitney shot Tiana a glare before begrudgingly ordering lighter dishes.

Parker, thoroughly entertained, observed the exchange with a grin. “Young girls are so cute,” he muttered.

He glanced at Mr. L, whose expression remained unchanged, his aura growing colder by the second.

It was clear that Whitney’s choices hadn’t pleased him.

The meal progressed in a strained silence, each bite heavy in the oppressive atmosphere.

Afterward, the tall man stood, adjusting his suit with effortless grace. Parker raised an eyebrow. “Which room are we going to?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mr. L replied, his indifference palpable as he didn’t even spare Whitney a glance.

Fed up with his cold demeanor, Whitney was about to leave, but Tiana had other plans. “Parker, what’s next?”

“Poker,” Parker replied quickly, then added with a wink, “My bro’s in a foul mood, just like Whitney. Maybe a game will cheer him up.”

Mr. L shot Parker a frosty glare before walking away.

Whitney, watching him retreat, felt a mix of frustration and confusion. He was tall, distant, and impossibly aloof.

Tiana, sensing an opportunity, prodded, “Poker sounds great. Whitney, you’re an ace at cards, aren’t you?”

Whitney remained silent, her frustration mounting. Parker smirked. “Oh? I’d love to see that. Join us in Suite 2033.”

Once they left, Whitney turned to Tiana, barely containing her anger. “What are you trying to do? Can’t you see he clearly despises us?”

Tiana, unfazed, smiled knowingly. “You have no idea how a man’s mind works, especially one like him. L is as mysterious as they come—he’s the ultimate brooding gentleman. No wonder he’s got you twisted up.”

Whitney shot her a look. “Who says I’m twisted?”

Tiana raised her hands in mock surrender. “Oh, come on. Aren’t you the one who got all jealous over a simple phone call?”

Whitney’s glare could have frozen water, and Tiana quickly added, “I just mean, the guy did save our skins, after all.”

“It was Parker who saved us, not him.”

“And you think Parker would have turned up without L’s nod?” Tiana nudged her, a playful glint in her eye. “Plus, he did give us a good laugh putting that jerk in his place.”

Whitney sighed, but Tiana continued, pushing her along. “Look at you, all wound up. This sham marriage is getting under your skin, and with the competition fiasco, you’ve got enough on your plate. Make up with him. It’ll clear your head so you can take down Monica. Besides, a guy with his bank account might come in handy.”

Before Whitney could protest, Tiana dragged her into the VIP lounge, Suite 2033.

As they entered the poker room, Whitney couldn’t help but marvel at the opulence. The floors were covered in luxurious cashmere, and the ambiance screamed wealth and power.

She wondered who could afford such extravagance—who owned the Royal One Club?

Reluctantly ushered in, Whitney’s eyes immediately found Mr. L, sitting comfortably on a plush sofa with ladies on either side.

The sight hit her like a punch to the gut. She had been right all along—he was a player. And now, with the sting of betrayal sharp in her chest, she felt suffocated, struggling to breathe.

Moments ago, she might have believed Tiana’s words, but now, seeing him surrounded by other women, she turned on her heel, determined to leave. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she headed toward the door.

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