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?”

gaze never left his work, only frowning

it into water, and smeared it all over the paper.

hall, Whitney asked the driver to stop

figure tumbled down the steps in panic,

Simon ran towards her.

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

sight of the bloody paper, helping Monica up. “Nonsense.

eyes

together, Whitney coldly snapped a photo with her phone. The pain from her palm,

words echoed in her ear. “Harsh? Whitney was born to shield Monica from misfortune,

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Chapter 4

truth cut like a knife. From now on, she would become

twisting in a

sea of blood and deep vengeance, she would claim it all back, everything that

“Mr.

her pale hand was enveloped by a larger one. The man beside her divided

the tears she had been holding back threatened to break

me rub it for you.” He frowned, rubbing her hand gently, his face emotionless,

what you’re planning; just make sure you

did not expect

she needed a haven, and this marriage

said as he stepped out of the car,

his retreating figure, then told the driver,

Yvonne tore the blood–stained paper with a scoff, “It’s just lipstick and water, a childish prank. Who are they trying

knew about us giving Whitney a

have turned to us, she might

Your father will announce in front of the media that all of Whitney’s inheritance will go to you. There will be no more Whitney

can’t come back,”

regained her composure, a triumphant smile on her

afternoon, the funeral home was

in Banyan City. Everyone knew about Whitney Valentine, a business prodigy and stunning beauty who made a name for herself in

her death was as scandalous as her life

core.

a call from a public phone. Even with nothing to her name, she remembered some media

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