Love beyond the mask (Whitney) novel Chapter 89

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Chapter 89 

Parker glanced down at the woman, the chill of his glasses betraying his impatience as he moved to walk past her. 

‘Parker?” Tiana piped up, a hint of confusion in her voice. “Did I do something to you? Why are you ignoring me?” 

Great, the little ditz had completely forgotten. 

His henchmen dared not laugh. This woman had no shame–she had nearly forced herself on Parker that night, leaving his shirt and belt all askew. 

As the man strode away coldly, Tiana was left baffled. He gave off a dangerous vibe, ruthless and intimidating; she shivered at the thought. Better to keep her distance, she decided. 

Leaning against the wall, Nolan eyed the sweetly clueless woman making her departure and flashed a wicked grin at Parker’s men. “Does Parker have a thing with Whitney’s little friend?” 

The henchman chuckled. “A bit, yes. Parker had to take a cold shower afterward.” 

Nolan clicked his tongue, gossiping, “Parker, your fiancée never got you all worked up, huh? What’s little Tiana’s secret?” 

Parker glanced at Nolan’s charming, playboy face and could not help but sneer. “Laughing at me? Look at yourself. Your beloved gal got scooped up by your big brother, Ashton Fuller, and you’re just gonna keep moping around? Ashton doesn’t even love Valerie; his heart belongs to…” 

He trailed off with a mischievous smile. Ashton was their friend, too, but his relationship with Ludwik was fraught with tension, mainly because of a one–sided infatuation with a woman- Elaine. The four brothers were as close as can be, and although Nolan appeared to be a ladies‘ man, he was actually the first to really fall for a girl–Valerie. 

Unfortunately, Valerie… 

“When are Ashton and Valerie due back from their honeymoon in Maelstrom Country?” Parker inquired. 

Nolan’s face darkened. “How the hell should I know?” 

Felix drove the car back to the villa. 

Whitney stepped out and headed inside, swapping shoes. 

The man’s tall shadow loomed over her as he casually blocked her path to the stairs, one hand in his pocket. 

Whitney tried to push past, but he effortlessly swept her up in his arms. 

Ludwik’s brows furrowed as he ordered Taryn, “Get the first aid kit!” 

Whitney was taken aback. “You…” 

He looked down at her and said with a deep voice, “I know everything.” 

Whitney ended up on the couch, sitting on his lap. 

Ludwik gently rolled up her sleeve, and as she flinched under his touch, she could no longer hold back her 

tears. 

Tears spilled from her eyes like broken pearls. 

Ludwik’s steady gaze flickered with panic as he looked at her pitiful expression. 

He gripped her soft shoulders, his heart melting. 

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Whitney’s emotions were out of control, oh, so he finally knew. 

Her grievances. 

“There, there” His voice was deep and alluring as he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her tears against his shirt like burning embers on his heart. “I know you were roughed up in jail; that night must’ve been terrifying, and you were all alone. I’m sorry, okay?” 

Whitney buried her head in his shoulder, biting him hard in her sobs. 

Taryn quickly came with the first aid kit as Ludwik soothed her trembling back, applying ointment to her bruises with a firm yet gentle touch. 

Whitney, her skin pale as snow, winced in pain. 

“Does it still hurt?” 

“Of course…” She muttered irritably, “There are more bruises all over.” 

“I’ll check them later.” 

“I don’t want you to.” A fire burned inside her, now smothered by his tender masculine presence, turning into warmth she could not release. 

Her small hands pushed at his, a mix of pain and tears, feigning annoyance, “You weren’t there when I needed you most. You’re just a jerk.” 

“Alright, I’m the jerk, and you’re the angel.” Ludwik’s lips curved slightly; his restraint slipped as he kissed her temple, her soft forehead, and the wet trails on her cheeks. The room’s atmosphere shifted, and Taryn discreetly slipped away. 

Ludwik sought those lips he had missed for days but held back from being too forward while holding her hand. Her little hands beat against his chest, a playful punishment. It was like a kitten’s scratch. 

Ludwik’s breath hitched in a moment of tension, his muscular chest tightening. Catching her hands, he said, “I get it. I was wrong. Stop hitting me, or you’ll stir up a different kind of desire!” 

Whitney cried out, her eyes wide in realization. 

Her cheeks flushed crimson. “You…” 

Even now, his thoughts were not pure? 

She abruptly tried to kick him away. 

Ludwik looked distinguished even with his shirt open at the collar, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he seriously caught her small ankle. “You better not kick. Your little punches and kicks might just fan the flames in my heart.” 

Whitney was both annoyed and embarrassed, unsure how to punish him properly. 

“Hmph.” She pouted, her head drooping. 

Her arms, both covered in bruises, were gently held by him. “Did you get a good look at who hit you?” 

“Yeah, Monica orchestrated it.” Whitney was certain of this. 

His aura turned frosty, his gaze terrifying. “You don’t want me meddling in your affairs, but after what she did–getting you locked up, putting our child at risk–I won’t let her off.” 

Whitney could sense the danger in his tone. However, he was unaware of the full extent of her feud with Monica. 

Behind this case lay Yvonne’s powerful backing. Whitney had thought it through; such fierce tactics from the start meant her adversary held significant animosity, rivaling even Monica’s. She wanted to uncover who was 

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