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Chapter_21
Whitney stood frozen, confused by his odd reaction. The song playing was one she had composed long ago.
The man squinted his deep-set eyes, as if recalling something from the past. A faint memory stirred within him—the girl who had saved him. She had soothed his frantic, hysterical fits with a soft lullaby while performing acupuncture. The tune playing now closely resembled that same lullaby.
His gaze intensified. “Are you trained in medicine?” he asked suddenly.
Whitney frowned. Her mother had always warned her to keep her knowledge of medicine a secret, not for the sake of lying, but for her own self-preservation. She had promised never to reveal it to anyone except Tiana. But why would he ask such a question?
“No,” she answered quickly, almost instinctively.
A brief flicker of disappointment passed through his eyes before he hid it. The intensity in his gaze softened, and he dropped the subject entirely. “You should get some sleep. Leave everything else to me.”
Whitney was left with a head full of questions, but she chose not to dwell on them. She simply nodded, willing to let the mystery rest for the time being.
Meanwhile, in the study, the man sat behind his desk, the mask now removed, revealing a face of striking beauty. But there was something cold in his eyes, something dangerous. His fingers glided over the phone with precision as he dialed.
“Nolan,” he said, his voice like ice. “Here’s your chance to make amends. Take Whitney’s father and stepmother. Beat them senseless. They have the nerve to harm my child, not realizing who I am.”
“Huh?” Nolan’s voice crackled with confusion. “Ludwik, what did I do wrong?”
The man’s face tightened with frustration. “She was supposed to meet Preston tonight. You misled me—you made me misunderstand her intentions. Now, just get it done!”
With a sharp exhale, the man hung up the phone. His anger simmered beneath the surface as he brooded in silence, every muscle in his body tense.
Back in the bedroom, Whitney lay on her side, unable to sleep due to the bruises on her back. Her mind raced with thoughts of the night’s events. She absentmindedly touched her stomach, still shaken by the ordeal.
Suddenly, her phone rang. It was Tiana calling via video.
“Tiana,” Whitney muttered as she answered. Tiana’s worried face immediately appeared on the screen.
“What happened, Whitney? I heard you were attacked by some guys at the Imperial Garden Bar. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Tiana asked, panic clearly etched in her voice.
Whitney sighed, remembering the harrowing events of the night. She recounted everything in detail, including how Preston had been manipulated by Monica and Yvonne.
Tiana’s eyes burned with anger. “Preston… how could he? He doesn’t deserve to be a father! Monica framed you with that fake pregnancy scare. And all you did was defend yourself! But Preston… he went along with it—he tried to beat you into a miscarriage just to get back at you for Monica’s shame. It’s outrageous!”
Whitney shivered, her mind swirling with a mix of fear and frustration. “Yvonne had a hand in it too. It was all part of Monica’s scheme to sabotage me. She released that video to cover up her own mess with the miscarriage scandal, trying to stop me from entering the jewelry competition.”
Tiana’s voice rose with fury. “That’s it. Just watch me, Whitney. I’ll take care of this.”
Late that night, as Preston and Yvonne returned home from a social gathering, their car was suddenly blocked by a group of motorcycles. A gang of young men jumped off the bikes, rushing toward the car with alarming speed. Before Preston and Yvonne could react, the assailants yanked open the doors and dragged them out of the vehicle.
“What the hell—?!” Preston yelled in shock as they were forcefully pulled into an alley. His words were cut off as he was thrown to the ground. The thugs wasted no time, delivering blow after blow.
Preston tried to defend himself, but the attackers were younger, quicker, and stronger. They beat him mercilessly, and he could only shout in desperation. “Who the hell are you? Daring to hit me, Preston Valentine? You’re all looking for a death wish!”
But the assailants showed no mercy. The alley echoed with the sounds of fists meeting flesh, and Preston’s cries became more muffled with each passing second.
