Love Beyond the Mask by Adelaide Sinclair

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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behind it all.
Whitney frowned. “L, just give her a lesson. I still have use for Monica.”

“Have you calmed down?” He asked, his voice suddenly low.
Whitney looked at him as he gently blew on her bruises, his features hard yet tender in his coaxing.
Her heart fluttered, and she snorted awkwardly, “This little act of kindness won’t make me forgive you.”
“As if I’ve forgiven you either,” he replied, his face hardening once more.
Whitney met his deep gaze, feeling like he was waiting for something...
Whitney knew she had to swallow her pride. Her eyelashes fluttered as she softened, her fingers nervously twisting a piece of his
shirt. “I... I’m sorry, too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought you weren’t coming to save me.”
He gazed at her intently, his intense stare making Whitney’s heart race with unease.
It was a moment before his long, slender hand reached out to pinch her nose gently. His eyes, brooding with a hint of
annoyance, bore into hers.
“Silly,” he chided softly, “you should trust me more. I care about you–how could I not come to your rescue? Use that little head of
yours and think. Who else but me has the power to set you free on a whim?”
“He cares about me?” The thought sent Whitney’s heart into a flurry of beats.
His gaze was like a calm abyss, powerful and reassuring, and it unexpectedly filled her with a sweet sense of security.
Maybe she did not trust him enough, and the realization made Whitney feel small.
“I thought... I thought once you had me, you’d get bored,” she confessed, her voice laced with vulnerability.
Ludwik’s expression darkened, but a chuckle escaped him, one that was both exasperated and amused. “Bored? We’ve barely
started dating, and I haven’t even had the pleasure of a proper night together. How could I be bored? Have you been donating
your EQ to boost your IQ?”
Whitney looked up at him, seeing the roguish charm that was so distinctly masculine.
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