Love beyond the mask (Whitney) novel Chapter 90

Chapter 90 

Whitney huffed with irritation. “So you don’t trust me either? What kind of woman do you take me for?” 

Ludwik stiffened. Their relationship, a trial marriage of sorts, was built on unfamiliarity. Trust was scarce, and both had sharp edges no one had yet to smooth out. 

“It’ll get better in the future,” he said, frowning slightly as he took her small hand in his. 

So they were making up? And there was a future? Whitney wondered. 

Her cheeks flushed with the thought. She wanted to ask about that night. “I called you twice when everything went down. Why didn’t you pick up?” 

Ludwik pinched the bridge of his nose. “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. As soon as I got it, I headed straight back to Banyan City. By then, you’d been detained for four hours.” 

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

To the conspiracy theorist, Elaine had deliberately delayed, causing a four–hour wait. 

But Ludwik, oblivious to her expression, continued matter–of–factly, “Elaine was running around with me that night. She’s the one who hired the lawyer for you. I waited outside your hospital room, unable to leave. You were angry with me, so I took advantage of her presence. You shouldn’t hold a grudge against her.” 

Whitney bristled inside. He made it sound like Elaine had been a saint to her. 

But she pushed her emotions down, looking at him with a forced smile. “What makes you think I hold a grudge against her?” 

“Don’t you?” Ludwik teased, playfully flicking her nose, his eyes sharp. “You were a bit harsh on her tonight at the club. Jealous of the attention she’s getting?” 

Whitney had been probing on purpose, suspecting Hannah was someone Elaine brought in to stir trouble. 

Whitney smirked at him, deliberately provoking, “Why shouldn’t I be jealous? Is she really your sister? Related by blood?” 

Ludwik paused, his gaze deep and mysterious 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 stopped on purpose, looking at her with a proud arch of his brow. 

Whitney’s face heated up, his non–confession sending her heart racing. 

Ludwik pulled her close, his brow furrowed in mock seriousness, “I’ve known her a long time. She’s been a great help to me. No need to be jealous.” 

She might be helping you with ulterior motives, thought Whitney. Men never see through such things. She 

could tell he trusted Elaine. 

Whitney clenched her fist slightly, realizing that speaking ill of Elaine now would only cause trouble without evidence. It seemed a silent battle was looming. 

Her stomach growled audibly. 

This time, however, he did not scold her but asked with indulgence, “Have you been feeling too sick to eat these past few days?” 

“You have the nerve to mention it. Your child, you should deal with the morning sickness,” Whitney retorted with feigned petulance. 

Ludwik, charmed by her playful pout, licked his lips and scooped her up towards the kitchen, “It’s all my fault. Letting you get pregnant was a mistake.” 

Whitney stared at his Adam’s apple, her cheeks burning, “You’re shameless.” 

The man raised an eyebrow and handed her a stack of cupcakes from the cabinet, noting the bright sparkle in her eyes. 

He tossed them to her arrogantly. “I’ll indulge you this once.” 

He was letting her have them, but only if she ate them in his arms. 

Whitney compromised for the sake of the treat. 

As he bent over to grab a napkin, ready to catch any crumbs from her delicate bites, the door swung open, and an elderly lady walked in. From her angle, it looked like her son was nestled close to his wife’s heart. 

“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 scurried upstairs like a gust of wind. 

Whitney was at a loss for words. 

Her face flushed with embarrassment as she glared at L. 

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

“Stop talking about it. Is Mom feeling any better?” 

“Same as always,” Ludwik replied, his brow furrowed with concern. 

Whitney watched Natalie’s cheerful departure. After what Taryn said last time, she was tempted to ask. “L, is Mom’s memory loss severe?” 

“Yeah, she had a serious head injury and lost her memory. She’s better off this way, carefree. I’m here with her.” 

Ludwik’s voice was icy, unwilling to elaborate. 

Whitney felt a pang of sympathy and curiosity, “How did Mom get a head injury?” 

“She suffered a great shock,” he cut off abruptly, his brows knitting into a frown as if suppressing something, his eyes becoming even more unfathomable, hiding a storm of emotions. 

Whitney dared not probe further, sensing she had touched a nerve. 

Natalie must have suffered greatly to choose to forget. 

Living with L in their luxurious estate, his mother was kept close and protected. What about L’s father? Whitney felt it was a taboo subject, the sudden restraint in L’s expression, the storm beneath those seasoned and profound eyes–was there hidden pain? 

Placing down the cupcake, Whitney said nothing, merely wrapping her tiny arms around his lean waist. 

Ludwik paused, looking down at her tiny head, her exquisite features softened with tenderness. 

It was as if something silent was communicating with him, trying to find a way into his heart. 

After a while, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom upstairs. 

The night deepened. 

Whitney, having freshened up, sent a Facebook message to Tiana. She realized she could not quite capture the night’s dramatic twists or L’s flirtations, so she simply burrowed into bed, exhausted and soon asleep. 

From the bathroom emerged a man draped in a bath towel, his lean form accentuated by water dripping from his hair, darkening his piercing eyes. 

He glanced at the little woman snoring softly on the bed, the bath towel slung so low.