Love Beyond the Mask novel Chapter 311

Isn't that just a stroke of fate? Parker's whistle stretched long and thin, a sound that seemed to linger in the air. If Ludwik and Whitney happened to bump into each other at the pharmacy, it could only be chalked up to destiny!

It seemed Parker shouldn't interfere with Whitney…

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of an intriguing stare fixed on him—

Whitney emerged, and upon turning her head, she saw Parker leaning against the wall, standing at the doorway of a ground floor room. Tall and distinguished, his face framed by wire-rimmed glasses, his gaze upon her was vibrant and alive.

Seeing him, Whitney felt a surge of irritation.

Thoughts of Tiana upstairs, still in tears, crossed her mind.

Ever since she had escorted her back, Tiana's mood hadn't stabilized.

And Endora was to blame for all of it!

And here was Parker, casually standing around, oblivious to the fact that Tiana and Cherry were just upstairs…

Thinking of them, she realized it didn't matter now.

Whitney held her tongue, but couldn't resist throwing a cold remark as she passed by him, “Mr. Doonan, what's with the staring?”

“Maybe spend some time keeping your fiancée from biting people's heads off.”

Parker, caught off guard, was left speechless and a bit taken aback.

Shifting his stance, he was slow to react, watching her storm out of the hotel, the reflection off his glasses, “Ms. Valentine, what do you mean by that?”

What did he mean? These men were clueless.

Frustrated, Whitney stormed into the pharmacy, looking around only to find there was no herbal medicine section. She couldn't find the acupuncture kit she wanted for Tiana…

Resigned, she headed over to the western medicine section, intending to buy some ointment for Tiana's bruised wrist.

Crash—

She collided with a solid, warm body, nearly seeing stars from the impact, her balance faltering, only to be steadied by the man's arms around her waist.

They turned to face each other, both startled.

Looking up, Whitney saw Ludwik, his face pale and handsome under the light, his jaw set, exuding masculinity.

His body was surprisingly warm!

“It's you…” Ludwik leaned down, his eyes narrowing at the sight of her.

His touch on her body sparked a reaction, his grip tightening involuntarily.

“Mr. Lippert? Let go,” Whitney swiftly twisted out of his grasp.

Looking down at his empty hand, Ludwik's throat felt dry, his mood inexplicably somber.

Whitney couldn't fathom what was going on with him, his gaze so dark?

Thinking of how protective he had been of Elaine just moments before at the conference, she recoiled, taking several steps back, having no intention of engaging with him.

She moved to another aisle, inspecting the products closely.

Ludwik, distracted, stared at the products in front of him, clueless about what to buy.

His senses seemed to be picking up on her scent, his steps unknowingly following her.

“Where’s the bruise treatment?” Whitney asked a clerk, her long hair cascading around her neck, a stark contrast to her pale skin.

Ludwik's gaze darkened.

“Over here?” Whitney bent down, adjusting her hair.

Once again, she bumped into someone.

Turning, her expression immediately cooled, “Mr. Lippert, what's your problem? Do you own this aisle, always bumping into me?”

“Bumping into you?” Ludwik responded, his tone deep and contemplative. “What do you mean by that?”

Whitney didn't catch his drift, only noting the huskiness in his voice, his features carrying a slight hint of roguishness.

Realizing she didn't understand, Ludwik too grasped the implications of his words.

Cursed medication, turning his thoughts dirty, his mind filled with suggestive images.

“This aisle is narrow,” he offered as a cold explanation.

Whitney glanced around the cramped store, eager to get away from sharing air with him, quickly picking out several medications.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his lingering presence, finding it odd.

Looking up, she saw him standing in front of a shelf filled with condoms…

Whitney paused, taking in his pristine white shirt, his belt and trousers all appearing new, not the outfit from the conference.