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Chapter_48
The man looked at her with a mysterious smile. “Surprised to find me so unremarkable?”
It wasn’t that. The monthly rent for this office space couldn’t even match the cost of a single button on his suit. The contrast was glaringly odd.
Whitney eyed him with suspicion, her petite frame tense with doubt.
His smile deepened as he gestured like a gentleman. “Please, take a seat.”
Whitney turned her gaze to the only chair in the office—a worn-out piece with foam spilling from a tear. Frankly, she had never sat on something so shabby. What on earth did he do for a living?
Clutching the hem of her skirt, she perched on the edge of the chair, her slender, milky-white legs barely touching the seat. Her posture was graceful, yet cautious.
The man took a slow glance at her attire. The soft pink blouse accentuated her porcelain complexion, while her cascading hair framed her forehead in delicate wisps. She looked particularly youthful today, the gentle curves of her figure subtly defined.
Who had dressed her like this? The directness of his gaze sent an unexpected flush to Whitney’s cheeks.
“What did you want to see me about?” she asked, shifting uncomfortably.
Only then did he break his gaze, pressing the intercom button.
Soon after, a male assistant arrived with a striking woman in tow. She had the polished appearance of a seasoned executive—sharp features, a curvy figure, and an air of refinement. Upon seeing Whitney, she hesitated, her complexion paling as she turned to the man behind the desk. “Boss.”
His voice was icy. “Iris, where was I on the afternoon of October 1st? Did you take any calls for me without permission?”
The woman faltered. “You were at the Coastline City branch. After the emergency meeting ended at five, you rested in the lounge and left your phone outside.”
Whitney blinked, realization dawning upon her—he had summoned her to clarify the misunderstanding.
Iris’s voice wavered as she continued, “I saw the call was from Madam, and I’ve admired you for so long that I foolishly answered. Please forgive me, boss!”
The man continued his work without looking at her, merely motioning toward Whitney.
Whitney suddenly felt her dignity being acknowledged.
Iris bit her lip and turned to Whitney with an apologetic bow. “Madam, I’m so sorry. I was out of line!”
Whitney narrowed her eyes, recalling the voice on the phone. It had indeed been Iris. “Then why did you say you were in the same room as him?”
A flicker of jealousy flashed through Iris’s eyes. “Because I wanted you to think we were close.”
That made sense.
Whitney studied her, recalling the woman she had seen in L’s car that morning. Was it the same person?
She wasn’t sure.
The man’s deep voice broke the silence. “Are you satisfied now?”
Whitney met his detached gaze. He looked so composed, so aboveboard. She pursed her lips, unsure how to respond.
His voice turned cold and ruthless. “Felix, fire her.”
“Please, boss!” Iris pleaded. “Give me another chance…”
The assistant escorted her out, and the office fell into silence.
Whitney glanced at the man across from her, who was still watching her. She cleared her throat to mask her sudden sense of satisfaction and pouted, “Well, things are somewhat clearer now…”
“Somewhat? That’s quite an attitude to have in my presence, Madam. Do you still think I’m a womanizer?” he asked, one eyebrow lifting in mockery.
Whitney’s face warmed, her hands tightening on her lap. She appreciated his efficiency but was not ready to concede. “I don’t know… It would be better if you and I maintained a respectful distance. That way, there would be no overstepping, no arguments.”
His gaze darkened slightly, as if displeased.
A phone call interrupted them. He frowned, picking it up to handle business. Out of time, he had his assistant take Whitney home.
Confused, Whitney exited the building. Something about it didn’t fit his corporate image.
Meanwhile, on the 28th floor, Ludwik stood by the window, speaking on the phone.
A graceful figure entered, her poise impeccable.
When Ludwik finished his call and turned, his brow creased. “What brings you from the branch office?”
“Ludwik.” The woman’s sharp business suit exuded professionalism, lacking the ostentatious flair of a secretary. Her exquisite features hinted at a high-society upbringing. With a slightly apologetic smile, she said, “Iris was one of my subordinates. I didn’t expect her to disrupt your new relationship with Whitney. I’ve come to offer my apologies.”
Ludwik studied her. Though his gaze was indifferent, there was an undercurrent of warmth. She was a loyal partner and the CEO of a branch office.
“You have no reason for self-reproach. Return to your duties.”
“Yes, Ludwik.” She nodded obediently but glanced back with a teasing smile. “Nolan mentioned there’s something special about Whitney. It seems he was right. You even ‘moved’ your office to this rundown place. What are you hiding from her?”
“Get back to work,” he replied coolly.
With a respectful nod, she left.
On the 24th-floor balcony, Iris accepted a card from the woman. “Thank you, Elaine.”
Elaine’s lips curled into a cold smirk. “A small joke, but well played.”
Iris knew what she meant—provoking Whitney.
Elaine had yet to reveal herself. Iris was merely a pawn.
But as long as Ludwik remained unsuspecting, all was well.
Iris felt a mix of resentment and relief. “All these years, every female secretary has been arranged by you. Ludwik’s side has been clean, except for Whitney. She’s the only obstacle in your way. Sooner or later… your patience will pay off.”
Elaine’s smile faltered for a moment. She had harbored feelings for Ludwik. For years, she had been the loyal, demure woman by his side—professional and silent.
She gazed down from the balcony, her smile turning frosty. “You’re wrong. She’s not an obstacle. She’s a usurper!”
Her fingers clenched tightly.
Down below, Whitney was about to step into the car when she suddenly felt a piercing gaze from above.
She paused, flustered.
Was it just her imagination? A chill ran down her spine as if someone was watching her with malevolent intent.
Whitney frowned and got into the car.
Back at the townhouse, she recounted her afternoon to Tiana.
“You wouldn’t believe how shabby his company looked. No sign, no nothing. I rummaged around and couldn’t find a single useful piece of information. And get this—he still goes by ‘Mr. L.'”
Tiana chuckled. “Mysterious Mr. L, huh? You’re too naive, girl. He probably picked that dump on purpose to keep you in the dark.”
Whitney had her doubts as well. “Tiana, do you think he might know me?”
“Wrong question, honey. It’s more like you might know him!”
Whitney blinked. “That makes sense. He’s afraid I’ll recognize him, so he wears a mask? But I don’t know many men well, and he doesn’t match anyone I remember. I just don’t get it—why would he hide his identity from me?”
