Love Beyond the Mask by Adelaide Sinclair

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Chapter 47
She was utterly flabbergasted.
Whitney?
Was she not supposed to be in the room?
Why was she just sitting here, cool as a cucumber?
And, more importantly, whose heated moans were echoing from the lounge?
Monica’s lips twitched. She watched Whitney glance up at her with an icy smirk, but she could not stop in her tracks, not when
Faith was already storming ahead to kick open the lounge door!
Inside, the dim lights barely illuminated the scene – Troy was drunkenly pinning two women on the couch, his shirt flung open,
his lips hungrily moving over them.
One of the women seemed reluctant, playfully struggling in a mock protest.
The other, however, was all in, eagerly wrapping her arms around Troy’s neck and pressing her lips to his.
“You two sluts! How dare you seduce my brother! Whitney, get out here... Wait, where’s Whitney?” Faith’s fury exploded as she
flipped the women’s faces, only to freeze in shock, “Roselyn? Monica, isn’t this your bestie, Roselyn? And Stella? Isn’t she that
hotshot celebrity everyone’s talking about? This...”
Faith’s face flickered through a myriad of expressions before turning to Monica with a dark, vengeful glare, “Aren’t these your
cheap friends? Oh, I get it. You were trying to frame Whitney, claiming she was coming onto my brother, but it turns out your two
shameless besties are the ones in his bed!”
Faith lashed out, striking fiercely. Stella was quickest to flee, her face the picture of misfortune. She had been called over by
Gunner, expecting some sort of affair, only to find herself locked in the moment she entered.
–
She did not even understand how things had escalated whether it was a natural disaster or man–made

chaos.
“It’s not me. I have no interest in Troy. I just happened to be here; I have a boyfriend! Monica, explain for me, please.” Stella’s
complexion was ashen as she looked desperately at Monica, silently pleading.
Meanwhile, Monica was still rooted to the spot near the door, blindsided by the discovery of Roselyn and Stella
inside.
–
It felt like doom was bearing down on her she planned to get Faith to catch Whitney and Troy in a scandal, to give Whitney a
thorough thrashing.
But how had it turned into her best friends being caught?

Now, she seemed at a loss for words.
Whitney...
Yes, that wretch, she must have sabotaged everything with that mocking smile.
Just then, Simon approached, his voice grave, “What’s going on here?”
“Simon, you have the nerve to ask!” Faith spun around, pointing an accusing finger at Monica, “Your precious girlfriend was
trying to set up Whitney. And somehow, it ended up being these two women. Stella might be innocent, but what about your best
friend Roselyn? She’s utterly shameless, throwing herself at men and just like Monica!”.

Simon’s gaze darkened as he turned to Monica, “Is this true? Have you been scheming against Whitney?”
“No, Simon, I would never hurt her,” Monica pleaded, her eyes brimming with feigned innocence.
But this time, Simon was not buying her act. Recalling past disputes between Whitney and Monica, he had always sided with
Monica, seeing her as fragile and gentle.
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However, Faith was the one revealing the truth now, and Simon could not deny what he saw with his own eyes.
Perhaps Monica was not as innocent and weak as he had thought.
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He left Monica to deal with the aftermath.
But Faith would not have it. She dragged Roselyn out, stripping her clothes and tossing her into the hallway, shouting. “Let
everyone see what a shameless little tramp she is! Did Monica send you here? Simon, what’s your game? Thinking you could
send your minion to charm my brother and win over the Perlman family inheritance? I’ll be telling Grandpa about this! And your
mother, Phebe, won’t get off scot–free either!”
Monica’s face turned ghostly pale as she stumbled back. No, she had only intended to disgrace Whitney, but now she was
caught in her own trap.

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As Simon turned away with a cold expression, she felt the chill of isolation. She had just managed to turn things around with
Phebe, and now, had she caused more trouble?
Roselyn was left to bear Faith’s wrath, humiliated in front of everyone. Though vain and materialistic, she still had her pride. The
men around her leered, a mix of lust and mockery in their eyes.
Clutching her face in horror, Roselyn clung to Monica’s legs, begging, “Monica, I was wrong. I got confused for a moment.
Please, explain to Faith, keep me safe!”
Monica had already seen through Roselyn’s true colors, and now that she was in danger herself, she had no intention of saving
her.
Without hesitation, she shook off Roselyn, adding insult to injury. “How could I save you when you’re so despicable? I never
taught you to be this low. Don’t smear my name in front of Faith. Just get lost! Faith, I had no idea about her actions. Please

don’t misunderstand me.”
Roselyn was crushed under Faith’s foot, her humiliation recorded by the mocking crowd, her fists clenched in
rage.
Monica would pay for this night’s betrayal – Roselyn swore her vengeance would be as ruthless as possible.
Having quietly observed the entire farce from her booth, Whitney clapped her hands lightly and stood up.
Monica could not even wait for the competition results before trying to sabotage her.
Well, she did not mind turning the tables and using this incident as payback. It was uncertain whether Phebe would find out, but
one thing was for sure the friendship between Roselyn and Monica was ruined. The
–
seeds of hatred planted in Roselyn’s heart would, with a little nurturing, provide Whitney with a weapon in the
future.
Stella, too, would feel the repercussions, and Whitney watched with a detached chill.
Monica wanted to disturb the peace between her friends, right?

She would return the favor.
The next day, the landline rang after lunch with Natalie in the villa.
It was L.
Taryn answered and then turned to Whitney, “Madam, Sir has sent a driver to pick you up. He’d like you to visit
his office.”
“Hmm? What for?” Whitney wondered.
With a knowing twinkle in her eye, Natalie ascended the stairs and selected an outfit that could have come straight out of a chic
Parisian boutique–a sophisticated Chanel–inspired suit dress. “No matter what he’s up to, doll yourself up, Whitney,” she
advised. “Outshine those other gals at his office. Our girl’s a natural beauty, with skin as smooth as a baby’s cheeks. This pink
will suit you to a T.”
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The old lady was sharp as a tack, she had already grilled her son and understood the conflict in detail when he returned that
evening.
Meanwhile, Whitney was pondering a different matter altogether: was she really about to visit his company? Could this mean she
would finally uncover L’s identity?
A frisson of excitement washed over her. The moment the chauffeur pulled up in the car, she hopped in without hesitation.
The unassuming Bentley entered the city center and approached a nondescript office building.
The assistant escorted her to the 28th floor. As they exited the elevator, Whitney observed various other companies; the building
was clearly a leasehold for office spaces.
Then, she entered a rather ordinary–looking office.
Behind the glass door, a man sat at a desk, his suit crisp, his posture emanating an air of solemnity from beneath his mask.

On the desk lay a solitary document, seemingly placed there to give the impression of a makeshift attempt at officialdom. ·
Whitney’s gaze landed on his crossed legs, her voice tinged with disbelief, “L, is this really your office?”
Chapter 48