Love beyond the mask (Whitney) novel Chapter 22

Suddenly, Whitney’s hand was slapped, and Roselyn snatched the shirt away. 

Her arm was still smarting from the last time Whitney and her thug buddy roughed her up at the club. Today, she was hell–bent on humiliating Whitney. 

With a sneer, Roselyn said, “Whitney, this is a Hermès counter. Can you read it? Do you think you’re still that jet–setting socialite who used to be front row at fashion shows? 

And you, sales clerks, times have changed. Why are you letting every Tom, Dick, and Harry in here to pollute the view of us esteemed VIPs?” 

The clerk, eager to appease Roselyn, immediately looked at Whitney with disdain. 

Tiana was about to rush forward in Whitney’s defense, but Whitney stopped her with a hand. 

Roselyn picked up a dress with an air of superiority, “This is Monica’s custom gown worth 880 grand. You’re with some nobody who can’t even afford my medical bills. Do you think you can afford a scrap of this dress? And what are you wearing?” 

She viciously pulled at Whitney’s collar to inspect her clothes, “Monet? Ha, must be a knockoff! 

Everyone, take a look! The once untouchable Ms. Valentine is wearing fakes now. Oh, how the mighty have fallen! Sales clerks, be careful, don’t let the poor steal anything!” 

Whitney wanted to laugh, curious about what L would say if he heard someone questioning the authenticity of his clothes. 

“Shouldn’t you be throwing out this down–and–out who can’t afford to buy anything with a black card?” Roselyn thought smugly, sure that publicly stepping on Whitney would earn her points with Monica. 

The clerk hesitated, moving to usher Whitney out. 

With a slow, deliberate movement, Whitney produced her smartphone, with a gold–embossed black card resting on top. She approached the counter and calmly said, “I’ll take the entire collection in this store, including the dress she’s holding – the precious gown Monica wants.” She glanced back at Roselyn with a mocking smile. 

The store fell into an eerie silence, punctuated only by gasps. 

The clerks‘ faces transformed, and Roselyn’s turned ashen. 

Disbelieving, Roselyn charged at her. “Impossible, how could you have a black card? Clerk, check her card. It must be a fake!” 

Whitney completed the transaction without batting an eyelid, and millions were paid successfully! 

Roselyn’s face turned livid, and the onlookers began to mock her. 

Tiana snatched the gown from Roselyn and tore it, sneering, “See now? We don’t even bother tearing into people like you. Oops, my bad, I tore it a bit. But ragged clothes suit a vile person like Monica anyway. Here, take it back to her with my compliments!” 

“Tiana, you bitch, you…” 

“What’s the matter, can’t afford a black card and still not scurrying away, waiting for me to kick your ass?” Tiana’s voice was fierce, and she looked ready to throw a punch. 

Roselyn left the store, clutching the torn gown, her face devoid of all dignity. 

She immediately called, whining, “Monica, Whitney tore your dress!” 

“What? You can’t handle this one thing. You’re useless!” Monica’s voice was icy. 

Roselyn’s face darkened with malice. She and Monica were just fair–weather friends. If it were not for Monica’s current power, she would not bother sucking up. Holding back her rage, she informed Monica, “Whitney has a 

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Chapter 22 

gold embossed black card. She just bought the whole store’s collection and humiliated me thoroughly.” 

Monica, full of envy, scoffed. “Impossible, are you blind? Whitney’s barely making ends meet. Didn’t you say that her nobody boyfriend couldn’t even pay your medical bills, and now she has a black card? They’re probably putting on airs with borrowed money!” 

She did not care about what Roselyn said, her voice filled with venom as she said, “That bitch, she’s caused scandals for my mother, Ha, my dad has already forgiven my mom, and she’s working on something. Wait and see how long Whitney can strut around. She’ll be done for soon.” 

Roselyn immediately flattered, “Yvonne sure is skilled.” 

Meanwhile, in the Valentine Mansion’s bedroom. 

In the afternoon, Yvonne used all her tricks to please Preston, and after his mood visibly improved, she finally lay down, panting. 

Though aging. Yvonne’s figure was still youthful, but the effort left her breathless. She clenched her fists when thinking about how Whitney had exposed her past. Fortunately, Preston had quashed the trending searches, and the taunts from the other high society ladies had subsided. Yvonne had managed to preserve her reputation and status. 

Cuddling Preston, she cooed, “Darling, I’ve dealt with Phebe. She finally agreed to Simon and Monica’s engagement. But Monica still needs a dowry. If we gave the East Side resort as a generous gift, our daughter would shine.” 

“Then it’s hers,” he said simply. 

Yvonne’s eyes gleamed, “But Whitney’s grandfather left that resort. Even though we’ve taken all her assets, the resort needs her signature.”