Love beyond the mask1-100

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Chapter_55

The atmosphere in the bar was charged with tension as Whitney and Ludwik exchanged heated words, both trying to assert their respective boundaries and frustrations. Whitney’s defiance only seemed to make Ludwik more irritated. His eyes narrowed as he processed her words, his mind flashing with jealousy, though he did his best to conceal it.

“Is it the same though?” Ludwik snapped, his voice colder than before. “I’m working. What are you doing? Gallivanting in the bar, all smiles with every Tom, Dick, and Harry.”

Whitney’s eyes flared with anger, but she quickly masked it with a calm, collected demeanor. She wasn’t about to let Ludwik’s possessiveness control her, not after everything she had been through.

“Look, you don’t come home every night either,” she shot back, her voice laced with bitterness. “I don’t interfere with your business. Why should you care what I do?”

There was a brief, pregnant silence between them. Felix, standing awkwardly by the door, could feel the sharpness of the tension in the air. He wisely chose to remain silent, not daring to intervene.

Ludwik’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he looked at her, clearly displeased by her words. He had never been one to tolerate insubordination, especially not from his wife. But Whitney’s stubbornness seemed to spark something in him—resentment, jealousy, and an undeniable sense of possession.

As the moments dragged on, Whitney couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Ludwik’s anger than just the situation at hand. She had always known he harbored control issues, but something about his reaction tonight felt deeper, more personal.

“You know, you’ve got a way of making everything about you, don’t you?” Whitney said, her voice steady but tinged with annoyance. “Just because you’re angry doesn’t mean you can dictate my life. I’m not your property.”

Ludwik’s eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and something darker, though he quickly masked it.

“Don’t mistake my words, Whitney,” he said, his tone now clipped. “This isn’t about control. It’s about respect. You might not think I care, but I do.”

Whitney stood her ground, refusing to back down. “Respect is earned, not demanded,” she countered, her words firm.

Tension simmered between them, each feeling the weight of unspoken words, resentments, and desires. The night had turned into a battleground, with no clear victor in sight, only two people locked in a battle neither was prepared to lose.

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