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 slightly. “Keep her
out a lipstick inside the restroom, crushed it into water, and smeared it all over the paper. She stuffed it
Whitney asked the driver to stop the
tumbled down the
Simon ran towards her.
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
the sight of the bloody paper, helping Monica up. “Nonsense. She’s dead! Calm down, don’t let the paparazzi snap
Monica’s eyes darkened, her face drained of
her phone. The pain from her palm, punctured and raw, was unbearable, and
was born to shield Monica from misfortune, a life cheaper
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14:54
Chapter 4
the truth cut like a knife. From
mouth twisting in a cold smile. The appetizer was served;
blood and deep vengeance, she would claim it all back,
back. “Mr. L, we
enveloped by a larger one. The man beside her divided a fraction of his attention from his work to ask, “Does it
voice, so deep, made Whitney’s resolve falter, and the
frowned, rubbing her hand gently, his face emotionless,
“I don’t care what you’re
all. Whitney did not
needed a haven, and this marriage was
as he stepped out of the car, too busy to state
the driver, “Please take me to Sun Funeral
paper with a scoff, “It’s just lipstick and water, a childish prank. Who are
else knew about us giving Whitney a
dismissed it with contempt. “Even if all her company’s people have turned to us, she might still have a friend or two.
all of Whitney’s inheritance will go to you. There will be no more Whitney in this
she can’t come back,”
a triumphant smile
afternoon, the funeral home
Valentine, a business prodigy and stunning beauty who
as scandalous as
core.
her eyes as she made a call from a public phone.
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