Love Beyond the Mask novel Chapter 35

“Who cares? He’s my archenemy for life. Especially after he dared to accept Monica’s painting. That man is nothing but a devious snake, a greedy wolf in sheep’s clothing, pretending to be a gentleman but with the heart of a jackal.”

Whitney approached the bookshelf with a scowl, slapping the picture of the man back and forth with disdain.

Tiana, quivering nervously, whispered, “Isn’t it a bit much to be trash-talking and hitting his picture in his own office?”

“Do you really think he’d have surveillance in his office?” Whitney snorted, scanning the room suspiciously.

She noticed a one-way mirror on the wall; the other side was probably another office.

At that moment, just a mirror away, the tall man stood with his arms crossed, an assistant beside him sweating bullets as he listened to the young madam’s tirade.

But the boss had a deep, amused smile on his lips like a man watching his kitten put up a playful fight – utterly adorable.

“No use, Tiana! With the way Monica cozied up to him, he took the bait. What’s the point of me even trying?”

Whitney slumped into a chair, her defeat weighing heavily on her.

“If only I could’ve taken him down before all this,” she gestured around the imposing office. “The desk, the chair... It would all be mine.”

“Am I also yours, Ms. Valentine?” A deep, lazy voice suddenly came from the doorway, laced with a teasing lilt.

Whitney, who had been facing away, stiffened and spun around in her chair.

Tiana had vanished, and there stood a strikingly handsome man at the door, hands in pockets, his dark eyes fixed on her.

A heavy silence fell.

Whitney was a leading socialite, known for her grace and poise. Yet there she was, her legs disrespectfully thrown over the boss’s desk.

Whitney stiffened, then stood abruptly.

“Stay put.” The man raised an intrigued eyebrow, strode over, and grasped her delicate foot in his warm palm with one swift move. “This desk is worth three million, a fitting throne for your dainty feet.”

Before Whitney could react, he playfully tickled the sole of her foot, sending her face into a blaze.

She tried to pull away, but his firm grip held her in place, immobilizing her with just three fingers.

His gaze slid over her curves, his lips curving into a devilish smirk, “And the chair, six million, imported fine wood, a worthy perch for your... butt.”

Whitney’s cheeks flamed as she realized the implication, “You... Mr. Lippert, you were eavesdropping! Let go of me!”

She struggled, but he held her ankle, his muscular arm bracing against the chair. With only three fingers, he had pinned her to the chair, unable to move.

“No.” He lowered his head, a glimmer of a smile hiding in his eyes. “As you know, a greedy and lustful man like me tends to give some contestants an unfair advantage. Some are willing to showcase their cleavage, among other things, are you?”

His demeanor was composed, but his eyes were wickedly playful as he leaned in and whispered suggestively, “Wanting the top prize is easy, Ms. Valentine.”

“You, the great Mr. Lippert, are proposing indecent favors in exchange for winning the competition?” Whitney wrenched her foot free, her skin trembling. She scrambled away from his imposing figure like a startled kitten.

He remained seated, looking after her with an amused gaze.

Whitney retreated, seething, “Shameless! Despicable! You hold a grudge, but I’ll tell you this – I’ll rise again and take you down.”

“Though I could win lying down and not doing a thing, I’d rather welcome the challenge in bed.” His eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth lifting.