Love Beyond the Mask by Adelaide Sinclair

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?”

man’s gaze never left his work, only frowning slightly.

the restroom, crushed it into water, and smeared it all over the paper. She stuffed it into

hall, Whitney asked the driver to stop

figure tumbled down

Simon ran towards her.

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

paper, helping Monica

so scared…” Monica’s eyes darkened, her face drained of

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

“Harsh? Whitney was born to shield Monica from misfortune, a life cheaper than

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Chapter 4

be it, the truth cut like a knife. From

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

deep vengeance, she would claim

“Mr. L, we

man beside her divided a fraction of his attention from his work

so deep, made Whitney’s resolve falter, and the tears she had

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

noble man, who commanded, “I don’t care what you’re planning; just make sure you keep yourself safe, especially what’s in your

transaction, after all. Whitney did not expect him

needed a haven, and this marriage was her

to her destination,” he said as he stepped out of the car, too busy

watched his retreating figure, then told the

paper with a scoff, “It’s just lipstick and water, a childish prank. Who are

“But no one else knew

have turned to us, she might still

the media that all

can’t come back,” Preston stated

composure, a triumphant smile on

the afternoon, the funeral home

Valentine, a business prodigy and

as her life had been, enough to shake

core.

eyes as she made a call from a public phone. Even with nothing to