Love beyond the mask201-300

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Chapter_206

Whitney loved Ludwik, of course. But before making any sacrifices, she needed her parents’ blessing.

“You weren’t there when the kidney transplant happened, right?” she asked, voice steady, gaze fixed.

Ludwik shook his head slowly. He didn’t know the details.

A flicker of a smirk danced on Whitney’s lips, but she quickly reined it in. “To really understand what happened to my mom, you should trace everything—from the kidney failure to the transplant. It might give you the full picture.”

Ludwik’s expression was unreadable. “You still think Elaine was involved?” His tone was sharp, but doubt clouded his words.

Whitney’s voice rose slightly. “If you believe I was saving my mom that night, then someone else caused her kidney failure!” She let the accusation hang in the air.

Ludwik rubbed his temple, conflicted. There had to be a reason—some piece of the puzzle still missing. Could it have been Whitney? Or was Elaine hiding something? The idea of confronting Elaine, after all she’d done for him, twisted his heart. But he needed answers.

He turned to the maid. “Go wake Elaine. I need to speak to her—and Ms. Valentine. Together.”

Whitney’s breath caught. Did he believe her? He hadn’t said so, but this confrontation… it was something.

Meanwhile, outside the villa—

Elaine had just returned from bribing a hospital doctor when she spotted her maid on the phone.

“Miss,” the maid stammered, visibly shaken. “The Boss took Whitney to see Madam early this morning. He’s asking for you now—he doesn’t know you’re not in your room. What should I tell him?”

Elaine’s knees nearly buckled. Panic flashed in her eyes.

Lyra’s voice turned sharp. “It’s that snake, Whitney. She’s gotten into his head. He might be starting to suspect the kidnapping.”

Elaine went pale. Damn that Parker. And now Whitney had Ludwik’s ear.

“Tell him I’m at the hospital getting my stitches out,” she said quickly. “I’ll be back soon.”

As the maid ended the call, Elaine pulled out her phone and dialed Jaxon. “Where’s the video of Whitney and Bryce?” she snapped.

“I still haven’t found anything,” Jaxon muttered—then her phone pinged.

An anonymous email.

Elaine opened the attachment. Her breath caught. A slow, wicked smile spread across her lips.

“Lyra,” she said, climbing into her car, “call the media. Get everyone. I want headlines.”

Back at the villa—

Ludwik sat beside his mother’s bed, holding her hand gently.

“Mother… do you think Whitney ever meant to hurt you?” he whispered. “Forgiving her—it feels like betraying you. But without her, I feel… empty.”

A long pause. His voice trembled.

“Damn it, I still want her. If she hasn’t wronged us—if she’s innocent—do I have the right to keep her?”

He sighed and turned, only to find Whitney standing in the hallway. His lips twitched unconsciously.

“Let’s go,” he said quietly, reaching for her hand.

Whitney’s heart stuttered as his fingers wrapped around hers. Could this be real?

He led her inside, and she followed, hope blooming—fragile but real.

Later, in the villa—

Ludwik called for breakfast and even summoned a doctor to check Whitney’s temperature. He pressed a cold pack to her forehead himself—his touch gentle, his eyes no longer cold.

As they ate, Ludwik spoke again. “You never told me you rushed to South City for Braxton. Why not?”

Whitney stiffened. How did he know?

Braxton must’ve slipped up at the hospital.

“I had to protect him,” she said carefully. “Uncle and I were both involved. If you found out, you’d never let him go.”

Ludwik wasn’t convinced. “Is that the only reason?”

Her voice faltered. “I was afraid something might happen to you.”

His eyes narrowed. “What time did you treat Braxton? And why did you wait until morning to come to the police station? I thought you’d run away. Where were you in between?”

Whitney’s spoon clattered against the bowl. She couldn’t tell him everything—not about Bryce, not about the drugged hotel incident.

“I stayed with Braxton,” she whispered. “Until I was sure he was safe.”

Ludwik raised an eyebrow. Her clothes had been soaked that morning. Was it raining that night?

Before he could question her further, the phone rang. “I have to sign some paperwork,” he muttered, leaving.

Whitney watched him go, emotions churning. Were they finally healing?

She carried the dishes to the kitchen, then glanced at her phone. Multiple missed calls—Bryce, Valerie, Nyx from Skye Gem Ltd., and Tiana.

Then it rang again. Tiana.

“Whitney! Did you see the news?” she cried. “You’re in trouble. Serious trouble.”

Whitney froze.

She checked the trending feed. The top headline stopped her cold:

“Mr. Lippert’s Wife Caught in Scandalous Affair—Explosive Hotel Video Leaked!”

Her blood turned to ice.

Tiana’s voice cracked through the silence. “Why were you with Bryce at a hotel? The video is timestamped—December 28. Weren’t you in South City then? Could this be a setup?”

Whitney could barely breathe. Her worst fear had just materialized.

“It’s blowing up. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. I believe you—but Ludwik might not,” Tiana added.

A creak from upstairs.

Her heart dropped. Ludwik.

He appeared at the top of the stairs, face dark with fury.

Elaine was already at his side, faux concern painting her features. “Ludwik, don’t look at that now. You’re still recovering. Come walk with me instead.”

But Ludwik wasn’t listening. The phone in his hand glowed—video playing. Bryce’s voice clear as day.

He turned his burning gaze to Whitney.

“On the 28th, you said you were saving Braxton,” he spat. “And yet you had time for a tryst with Bryce? Want to explain that?”

Elaine’s voice trembled—deceptively. “She’s been lying to you. From the start. Colluding with Orion, using Bryce to cover her tracks.”

Ludwik’s rage boiled over. “I’ve been a fool.”

Whitney tried to speak, voice shaking. “Elaine is framing me. That night, I was saving Braxton—for you! Bryce had nothing to do with it!”

But Ludwik’s anger eclipsed reason. His hand struck her cheek—hard.

“I’ve never been so humiliated!” he roared, raising his hand again—

The door slammed open.

Felix burst in, flanked by Skyfaith’s PR team.

“Mr. Lippert! We’ve got a crisis!” he yelled. “Skyfaith’s image is tanking. We need you now.”

The room was a powder keg. And the explosion had only just begun.

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