Love beyond the mask1-100

Novel Catalog

Chapter_24
Whitney stood her ground, her composure unshaken despite the whispers and stares around her. She waited until the murmurs died down, then spoke with a calm detachment, her words cutting through the tension. “A bit carried away? If I remember correctly, wasn’t it you, Yvonne, who was at the center of the scandal of the decade just a few days ago?”
Yvonne’s expression froze, her face turning stiff with indignation. The socialites and ladies gathered around fell into an uneasy silence, their minds racing as they recalled the recent gossip about Yvonne.
Trying to mask her fury, Yvonne forced a polite smile and responded in a strained voice, “Whitney, those rumors were false, and they’ve already been debunked…”
“Really?” Whitney raised an eyebrow, her smile cold. “Last I heard, my father doesn’t even want to speak to you. What’s the real story?”
Without waiting for a response, Whitney turned on her heel and walked away, her steps confident and unbothered. The crowd dispersed awkwardly, and Monica, glaring at her mother’s humiliation, stomped her foot in frustration. “Mom! She humiliated you like that, and you’re just going to let it slide? Look at her, so smug!”
A dangerous glint flashed in Yvonne’s eyes as she clenched her fists. “Patience, darling. After tonight, she won’t have the gall to be so arrogant anymore.”
The charity auction was scheduled to begin at nine, but it was only seven. Whitney moved through the venue with a sense of unease, noticing that Yvonne and her daughter had yet to reappear. She had a sinking feeling that something was off—that they wouldn’t just let her off the hook so easily.
As she passed by the kitchen, a peculiar scent caught her attention. It was medicinal, and she frowned as she recognized the ingredients for a traditional tonic. Her lips curled into a cold sneer. Monica’s feigned miscarriage came to mind, and a chilling thought crossed her mind: what was Monica really up to?
Feigning innocence, Whitney approached a servant. “Who’s making this remedy? Is someone in the household unwell?”
The servant merely laughed without answering, too distracted by the hustle to give her any regard. Whitney left the kitchen, her suspicions confirmed. Monica, unable to even carry a child anymore, was relying on this concoction. The situation had escalated to the point where she needed medicine to sustain the illusion.
Suddenly, the peaceful quiet was shattered by the sound of barking dogs and a child’s shrill cry. Yvonne’s voice rang out sharply, “Whitney! Look at what your dogs have done–they’ve bitten someone!”
Whitney furrowed her brow and rushed outside, her instincts telling her something was wrong. Yvonne had already had her servants subdue Whitney’s two dogs and was approaching her with a feigned air of civility.
“These dogs have been quite unruly lately,” Yvonne said, her voice dripping with false concern. “Just now, they nearly bit a little guest. Whitney, you’re their owner, and if they’ve hurt someone, you’re responsible. I’m going to have them taken away. Is that alright?”
Whitney glanced at the small, whimpering child and then at her dogs, who communicated through their eyes that they hadn’t bitten anyone. She knew her dogs were intelligent, capable of understanding and following commands. Though reluctant, she agreed, wanting to avoid any further conflict.
“Where will you take them?” she asked.
“To the old lodge by the back hill,” Yvonne responded, her gaze steely and calculating.
Fearing for her dogs’ safety, Whitney insisted, “I want to go with them.”
Yvonne nodded, but once Whitney was out of sight, a sinister smile twisted her lips. The bait had been taken.
At the old lodge, Whitney crouched down beside her dogs, whispering a promise. “I’ll get you out of here tonight.” As she stood, about to leave, the servants suddenly grabbed her, lifting her off her feet and dragging her, along with the dogs, to the basement.
“What is the meaning of this?” Whitney demanded, her voice sharp with fury. Her eyes flickered with cold intent.
One of the burly servants threw a contract in front of her. “Sorry, Whitney, but the madam wants you to sign this deed of transfer as a wedding gift to Monica.”
The contract was for a vacation resort, but Whitney’s expression turned icy as she recognized it. This property had belonged to her grandfather, and even if the Valentine family had taken control of it, a transfer still required her signature.
The servant pressed her hand to the contract, forcing her to sign. Once done, they left, locking the door behind them.
Alone in the cold basement, Whitney’s mind raced. Why had Yvonne locked her in here with her dogs? If the contract was the goal, why this elaborate scheme? Something didn’t add up.
As she gazed through the narrow window at the moon’s cold light, an unsettling realization began to form. Yvonne wasn’t just after a signature. She was planning something darker. And Whitney needed to figure out what it was before it was too late.
The clock was ticking. The auction would begin at nine.
Whitney’s heart quickened with unease, but before she could formulate a plan, the door crashed open. Two male servants rushed in, dragging her dogs away.
“What are you doing?” Whitney stood up, attempting to intervene. “What will you do to them?”
One of the servants smirked lewdly as he caressed her face. “You’re quite a beauty, Whitney. After tonight, I might just have my way with you.”
The other servant snapped, “Shut up! Have you forgotten she might be insane? Watch out, she might bite.”
They left in a hurry, taking the dogs with them.
What were they planning? To kill her dogs? What was Yvonne up to?
As Whitney paced the room, her mind worked furiously, and then a thought struck her. The servant’s mention of “she might be insane” had connected the dots. Yvonne was setting her up.
A chill ran down her spine. She realized Yvonne’s vicious plot in time to act. Whitney’s lips curled into a cold smile. She would turn the tables on them.
Without hesitation, Whitney called her ally, Tiana, who had managed to sneak into the estate and was at the banquet hall when the call came through.
Tiana, furious, raced to the back hill as Whitney briefed her on what had happened. “They dared lock you up…” Tiana’s voice trembled with anger.
“Shh, Tiana,” Whitney urged, her face taut with urgency. “Listen, I need you to do something for me.”
Tiana, sensing the gravity in Whitney’s tone, leaned in as she listened closely. Whitney’s plan was set in motion, and Tiana’s expression darkened with resolve.
After Whitney was rescued from the basement, Tiana ground her teeth in fury. “Those evil women… Whitney, you must find a way to turn the tables on them.”
“Of course.” Whitney’s eyes blazed with intensity as she gazed into the night. Yvonne had crossed a line, and now it was her turn to face the consequences.
Suddenly, a figure approached from behind, addressing her respectfully, “Madam, is there anything you need help with?”
Whitney turned to see the driver who had been assigned to her. Her heart skipped a beat. “Did L send you?”
“Yes. He instructed me to be at your service,” the driver replied, his voice calm and composed. “He said you’re usually quite self-sufficient but to use my judgment when necessary.”
Whitney’s lips curved in a faint smirk. She had a chauffeur now—a stroke of luck in this chaotic situation. With urgency, she gave him the instructions.
The chauffeur managed to rescue the dogs, and Whitney let out a breath of relief. Her plan was falling into place.
With a flicker of cold determination in her eyes, Whitney scanned the bustling ballroom. Yvonne, she knew, was about to face the consequences of her own scheme.
As Whitney gave a subtle cue, the chauffeur went off to handle the last piece of the plan.
Back in the ballroom, Yvonne was the picture of grace. Suddenly, she paused, looking around. “Did any of you hear a dog barking?”
The wealthy matrons fell silent. Indeed, there was the sound of a dog yelping—agonizingly.
Yvonne’s gaze flicked to the butler, who rushed in, his face filled with panic. “Sir, madam, something terrible has happened! Whitney… she… she…”
“What happened to Whitney?” Yvonne rose with feigned concern.
The butler stammered, “Whitney… she did something to her dogs… Please, you must come see!”
The butler’s halting words and terrified expression sent a ripple of curiosity through the crowd. Yvonne and Preston exchanged a knowing look before dashing toward the backyard, followed by the entire gathering.
As they moved, Yvonne glanced subtly at Roselyn, who immediately raised her voice, adding fuel to the fire. “Could Whitney have lost her mind?”
“She’s actually insane?” another socialite chimed in.
“Kidnapping and indecency—if she doesn’t have a screw loose, I’d be surprised…”
The murmurs grew louder with every mention of Whitney’s name. Disdain was etched on every face.
Yvonne’s lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk as she lowered her head. “Whitney, your good days are over as of today.”
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