Love Beyond the Mask novel Chapter 4

On the eleventh day, after he had meticulously planned her fake 'murder,' they actually went and secretly got their marriage license.

What a twist of fate!-

Whitney froze, a suffocating agony drowning her, hate that was bone-deep, and a coldness that splashed from the depths of her eyes.

The past taunted her like a sharp sword.

“Whitney, I will definitely marry you. You'll soon be Mrs. Perlman.”

“Whitney, you're a genius. Help Monica with her draft one more time; she must win the jewelry competition!”

“We'll get the license after the wedding. Don't worry, I won't betray you.”

After the wedding, huh? But he wanted her dead!

The tight grip on her palm was released by the man standing beside her, his tall figure casting a cool shadow. He asked her, "Need a few minutes?"

Whitney pressed her pale lips together and shook her head.

A clerk politely ushered them inside.

It only took two minutes to get the license. Whitney glanced at the man working busily in the chair, then at the marriage certificate. His name in the document had only one initial: L.

Domineering, indifferent, perfunctory.

What kind of marriage was this? It seemed the license was just a way to bind her and to appease the old lady.

She knew nothing about him, nor did she know whom she had truly married.

Suddenly, Whitney spotted Simon and Monica entering another office. Monica took her purse to the restroom.

Whitney’s lips curled into a cold smirk, and she said to L, "I have something to take care of."

Felix, the man’s assistant, looked at Whitney's retreating figure and asked the man quietly, "Sir?"

The man's gaze never left his work, only frowning slightly. "Keep her safe."

Whitney took out a lipstick inside the restroom, crushed it into water, and smeared it all over the paper. She stuffed it into a cubicle and left with a cold smile.

Outside the city hall, Whitney asked the driver to stop the car.

Within seconds, a delicate figure tumbled down the steps in panic, screaming unabashedly, "Simon!"

Simon ran towards her.

Monica, pale as death, shook out a blood-soaked paper and said with a trembling voice, "Look... This is the horoscope for a ghost marriage, with Whitney's name written in blood! It just appeared in my purse. Is Whitney coming back for revenge?"

Simon also recoiled at the sight of the bloody paper, helping Monica up. "Nonsense. She's dead! Calm down, don't let the paparazzi snap this."

"Simon, I’m so scared..." Monica's eyes darkened, her face drained of color.

Watching the guilty couple huddled together, Whitney coldly snapped a photo with her phone. The pain from her palm, punctured and raw, was unbearable, and her eyes began to fill with a bloody hue.

Her stepmother's words echoed in her ear. "Harsh? Whitney was born to shield Monica from misfortune, a life cheaper than dirt!"

So be it, the truth cut like a knife. From now on, she would become Monica's calamity!

Whitney glanced at the afternoon's funeral news, her mouth twisting in a cold smile. The appetizer was served; the entrée would soon follow.

A sea of blood and deep vengeance, she would claim it all back, everything that belonged to her!

She pulled her hand back. "Mr. L, we can drive off now."

Suddenly, her pale hand was enveloped by a larger one. The man beside her divided a fraction of his attention from his work to ask, "Does it hurt?"

His voice, so deep, made Whitney's resolve falter, and the tears she had been holding back threatened to break through.