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?”
left his work, only frowning slightly. “Keep her
it all over the paper. She stuffed it into a cubicle and left with
asked the driver
figure tumbled down the
Simon ran towards her.
a ghost marriage, with
paper, helping Monica up. “Nonsense. She’s dead! Calm down,
scared…” Monica’s eyes
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
ear. “Harsh? Whitney was born to shield Monica from misfortune, a life cheaper
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14:54
Chapter 4
knife. From now on, she would
glanced at the afternoon’s funeral news, her mouth twisting in a cold smile. The appetizer was served; the entrée
would
pulled her hand back. “Mr. L, we can drive
was enveloped by a larger one. The man beside her divided a fraction of his attention from his work
deep, made Whitney’s resolve falter, and the tears she had been
it for you.” He frowned, rubbing her hand gently,
this noble man, who commanded, “I don’t care what you’re
Whitney did not
a haven, and this marriage
to her destination,” he said as he stepped out of the car, too
watched his retreating figure, then told the driver, “Please take me to Sun
lounge of the funeral home, Yvonne tore the blood–stained paper with a scoff, “It’s just lipstick and water,
knew about us
with contempt. “Even if all her company’s people have turned to us, she might still have a friend or two. Just a
soon. Your father will announce in front of the media that all of Whitney’s inheritance will go to you. There will be no more
and gone, and she can’t come back,” Preston
regained her composure, a triumphant smile
the afternoon, the funeral home was
about Whitney Valentine, a business prodigy and
as scandalous as her life had been, enough to shake the city to
core.
public phone.
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