Love beyond the mask1-100

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Chapter_90

Whitney huffed in irritation. “So, you don’t trust me either? What kind of woman do you think I am?”

Ludwik stiffened at her words. Their relationship, a kind of trial marriage, was still fraught with unfamiliarity and unspoken tension. Trust was in short supply, and both of them had sharp edges that no one had yet smoothed out.

“It’ll get better in time,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly as he took her small hand in his, offering a gentle squeeze.

Was he implying they were making up? And was there a future for them? Whitney wondered, her cheeks flushing at the thought. She wanted to ask about that night, about the phone calls she had made. “I called you twice when everything went down. Why didn’t you pick up?”

Ludwik pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “There was a crisis with the Elate City project. I had to rush over and left my phone behind. Elaine brought it to me later at Sea Bay. By the time I got it, I headed straight back to Banyan City, but you’d already been detained for four hours.”

Elaine had his phone? Whitney’s eyes darkened with suspicion.

Her mind spun with a more sinister theory: Did Elaine deliberately delay things to cause that four-hour gap?

But Ludwik, oblivious to her shift in expression, continued matter-of-factly, “Elaine was with me that night. She hired the lawyer for you. I waited outside your hospital room because I couldn’t leave. You were angry with me, so I took advantage of her presence. You shouldn’t hold a grudge against her.”

Whitney’s irritation flared. He made it sound as if Elaine had been some kind of saint. But she tamped down her feelings and forced a smile. “What makes you think I hold a grudge against her?”

“Don’t you?” Ludwik teased, flicking her nose playfully. His eyes gleamed with amusement. “You were a little harsh with her tonight at the club. Jealous of the attention she’s getting?”

Whitney had been probing on purpose, suspecting that Hannah was just another one of Elaine’s attempts to stir trouble.

She smirked at him, deliberately trying to provoke. “Why shouldn’t I be jealous? Is she really your sister? Are you really related by blood?”

Ludwik paused, his gaze darkening as he looked away, his brows furrowing. “She’s just a sister. Don’t overthink it. She poses no threat to you because my heart is all…” He trailed off, glancing back at her, raising an eyebrow with an almost teasing look.

Whitney’s face heated up, her pulse quickening at his unfinished statement. His non-confession had sent her heart racing.

Ludwik pulled her closer, his expression shifting to mock seriousness. “I’ve known her a long time. She’s been a big help to me. No need to be jealous.”

Whitney’s mind flashed to another thought: Maybe she’s helping you for reasons you can’t see. She could tell that Ludwik trusted Elaine, and it bothered her.

Clenching her fist subtly, she realized that speaking ill of Elaine now would only bring trouble without any proof to back her suspicions. It seemed like a silent battle was brewing between them.

Suddenly, her stomach growled audibly.

This time, however, Ludwik didn’t scold her. Instead, he asked with a gentle indulgence, “Have you been feeling too sick to eat these past few days?”

Whitney shot back with a feigned pout, “You have the nerve to bring it up. It’s your child. You should be dealing with the morning sickness, not me.”

Ludwik’s eyes lit up with amusement at her playful demeanor. He leaned down, his lips almost brushing her ear as he scooped her into his arms. “It’s all my fault. Letting you get pregnant was a mistake.”

Whitney glared at his Adam’s apple, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. “You’re shameless.”

Raising an eyebrow, Ludwik handed her a stack of cupcakes from the cabinet. She couldn’t miss the spark in his eyes as he tossed them to her, the gesture full of playful arrogance. “I’ll indulge you this once.”

But, of course, the deal came with a condition: She had to eat them in his arms.

Whitney rolled her eyes but compromised for the sake of the treat.

As Ludwik bent over to grab a napkin, ready to catch any crumbs, the door swung open, and an elderly lady walked in. From her angle, it looked like Ludwik was cuddling up to his wife in an intimate embrace.

“Oh, Xandra, look at those two! What a picture they make. Hehe. Carry on, just don’t hurt my little grandson! I’m just grabbing something and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Natalie, in her typical whirlwind fashion, scurried upstairs without a second thought.

Whitney froze, her face flushed with embarrassment as she glared at Ludwik.

He glanced down at her belly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to explain. “She saw it wrong. I wasn’t really diving in.”

“Stop talking about it,” Whitney said quickly, her voice shaking slightly from the awkwardness. “Is your mom feeling any better?”

Ludwik’s brow furrowed with concern. “Same as always,” he replied curtly.

Whitney hesitated before asking the question that had been on her mind. After the conversation with Taryn earlier, she couldn’t ignore it any longer. “Ludwik, is Mom’s memory loss severe?”

Ludwik’s tone turned icy, his voice guarded. “Yeah, she had a serious head injury and lost her memory. She’s better off this way, carefree. I’m here with her.”

Whitney, sensing the finality in his voice, pressed on, her curiosity piqued. “How did she get a head injury?”

“She suffered a great shock,” he said abruptly, his face clouding over as a frown deepened. He quickly shut down the conversation, his eyes growing dark as he hid emotions that seemed too raw to share.

Whitney, understanding that she’d touched a nerve, didn’t press further. She could feel the weight of the silence between them, and the storm of emotions that had momentarily flashed in his eyes.

Natalie must have suffered terribly to choose to forget, Whitney thought, her heart aching for the woman she’d only just started to get to know.

Ludwik, noticing her quiet, softened his posture. He bent down to kiss the top of her head, his arm wrapping around her waist as he gently pulled her into a hug.

After a few moments of silence, he lifted her into his arms and carried her upstairs to the bedroom.

The night deepened.

Later, after freshening up, Whitney sent a quick message to Tiana on Facebook. She found it hard to put into words the emotional rollercoaster of the night—the flirtations, the tension, the teasing—and ultimately, she just burrowed into the bed, exhaustion taking over.

As she drifted off to sleep, a figure emerged from the bathroom: Ludwik, wrapped only in a bath towel, water still dripping from his hair, his piercing gaze lingering on her for a moment.

He glanced at her sleeping form, the sight of her curled up against the pillows making something twist in his chest. He turned away, his expression darkening as he noticed the makeshift bed beside her.

At 23:37, he stepped out onto the balcony, the cool November air biting at his skin. He dialed Parker, his voice cool and composed. “Handle the thug who hit Whitney. But leave Monica breathing.”

Parker’s chuckle came through the line, sensing the calmness in his tone. “So, you two made up, huh? Ready to continue your sweet post-wedding romance?”

After finishing his cigarette, Ludwik returned to the bedroom, his mood turning dark. “She begged me to make up. What could I do?”

Parker snorted with laughter, knowing full well what Felix had shared about Ludwik’s groveling attempt to make things right with Whitney.

Ludwik kicked aside the makeshift bed with a flick of his foot, slipping into the sheets beside her, intending to hold her close. He’d play the “cold” card in the morning, knowing she’d fall for it.

Just as he swung his legs onto the bed, however, Whitney, half-asleep, kicked him off with surprising force, her voice muffled by sleep. “Who said you could get up here? L, don’t you dare try anything funny. I’m pregnant, and we’ve just started dating. If you act like an animal, I swear I’ll tell our kid about it.”

There he was, dumped unceremoniously onto the floor.

Parker and Nolan’s laughter could be heard clearly on the other end of the phone. Parker, pretending to be sympathetic, said with mock sorrow, “I can feel it. Whitney’s pitiful plea for reconciliation.”

Ludwik hung up in frustration, but his lips curved into a reluctant smile. Whitney had already rolled herself up tight in her blanket, untouchable in her cocoon.

He couldn’t help but laugh, giving the spot where she’d been a gentle pat. “You’re asking for it, little troublemaker. The baby’s hitting three months, and I’ll make sure you get exactly what’s coming.”

Under the covers, Whitney mumbled, “What did you say?”

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