Love beyond the mask (Whitney)

Chapter 12

Whitney’s Facebook pinged.

Opening the app, she was horrified to see Roselyn had posted the photo in their college group with a

scoffing caption,

[Come see the former campus queen with her thug boyfriend, caught in the act. She’s dining and

dashing at Southern Elegance Club. Stay tuned for the live stream of her getting kicked out.]

The group exploded. Whitney had been a goddess on campus, secretly admired by numerous high

society young men. Now, they recoiled as if they had swallowed flies.

[How’d she end up like this, with a thug?]

[I felt sorry for her after the kidnapping news, but she’s clearly promiscuous.] Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

[Hey, why waste time with a thug? Spend a night with me.]

[Roselyn, find out her price, will you?]

[I heard she’s pregnant. What’s she even worth? I’d say ten grand is generous.]

Soon enough, Whitney became the group’s laughingstock.

Her expression was indifferent, something that Roselyn just could not stomach. She pinched her face

mockingly and said, “What’s with the act, darling? In the group chat, they’re treating you like you’re

auctioning yourself off at a bar!”

Suddenly, the man opposite frowned and looked over, causing an inexplicable drop in the atmosphere.

Thinking the masked man was eyeing her, Roselyn felt a surge of superiority. She strolled over with a

sultry gaze and taunted, “Do you have any idea what this meal costs? Whitney is flat broke; she can’t

afford you!”

With that, she boldly pinched the man’s chin, “You’ve got a decent build. Consider this meal on me, and

come with me. Whitney is hardly your match anymore.”

Roselyn wanted to snatch Whitney’s so–called ‘thug boyfriend, to trample her underfoot and show her

up in the alumni group.

“Oh, charity for me?” The man finally spoke, his voice chilling and deep.

Whitney’s heart skipped a beat. Although she did not know L’s true identity, she knew he was loaded.

Seeing that he seemed intrigued, Roselyn immediately flashed a black card, her eyes mocking

Whitney. “This is Monica’s black card. Simon got it for her at the Southern Elegance Club. Whitney, I

remember you used to come here for business, too. How come Simon never got you one?”

Whitney’s eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of the black card.

It was more than just not getting her a card; in the past, to save money, Simon would often show clients

a good time while leaving her to go hungry.

So, he had gotten Monica a black card for this place long ago.

The chill on Whitney’s face made the man’s gaze sharpen, and he scoffed at Roselyn, “You’re using a

black card to buy me dinner?”

Whitney snapped back to reality, wondering what game L was playing.