Love beyond the mask (Whitney)

Chapter 24

Whitney remained the very picture of composure amid the whispers and stares.

She waited for the murmurs to die down and then spoke with a cool detachment, “A bit carried away? If

I remember correctly, wasn’t it you who was caught in the scandal of the decade just a few days ago,

Yvonne?”

Yvonne’s face turned as stiff as a board.

The socialites and ladies gathered around suddenly fell silent, recalling the recent gossip.

Yvonne, struggling to contain her fury, tried to explain in a gentle voice, “Whitney, those rumors were

false, and they’ve been debunked…”

“Oh, have they? Last I heard, my father doesn’t even want to speak to you. What’s the real story?”

Whitney’s smile was cool and detached. Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked away.

The crowd dispersed awkwardly, with Monica stamping her foot in frustration. “Mom! She humiliated

you like that, and you’re just going to let it go? Look at her, so smug and self–satisfied!”

A deep loathing simmered in Yvonne’s eyes. “Patience, darling. After tonight, she won’t have the gall to

be so arrogant anymore.”

The charity auction was set to begin at nine, yet it was only seven. Whitney moved through the venue

while Yvonne and her daughter had yet to reappear.

Whitney had a hunch that something was amiss; they would not simply let her off the hook.

Passing by the kitchen, Whitney caught the scent of something medicinal. She frowned, seeing the

steaming pot on the stove, and recognized the ingredients for a traditional tonic, which sparked a cold

sneer at the corner of her lips as she remembered Monica’s feigned miscarriage.

“Who is making this remedy? Is someone in the household unwell?” She asked a servant, feigning

ignorance.

The servant hardly paid her any regard and laughed without responding.

Whitney left the kitchen, suspicions confirmed about Monica’s condition. It was clear that Monica barely

had the capability to bear a child anymore, and the situation had gotten so severe that she even had to

take

medicine.

Suddenly, the sound of barking dogs and crying interrupted the quiet. Yvonne’s shrill voice reached

her. “Whitney! Look at what your dogs have done–it’s bitten someone!”

Whitney’s brows knitted together, and she hurried outside.

Yvonne had her servants subdue Whitney’s two dogs and approached her with a veneer of civility.

“These dogs have been quite unruly lately. Just now, they nearly bit a little guest. Whitney, you are

their owner; you would be responsible if they actually hurt someone. I’m going to have them taken

away. Is that alright?”

Whitney scrutinized the whimpering little girl and then her agitated dogs, who communicated through

their eyes that they had not bitten anyone.

She knew her dogs were intelligent creatures. Reluctantly, given the circumstances, Whitney agreed.

“Where will you take them?”

“To the old lodge by the back hill,” Yvonne said, watching her intently.

Fearing they might harm her dogs, Whitney insisted, “I want to go with them.”

Yvonne nodded, and once Whitney was out of sight, a sinister smile played at the corners of her lips.

The little wretch had taken the bait.

At the old lodge, Whitney crouched down to her dogs. “I’ll get you out of here tonight,” she promised.

Just as she was about to stand up, the servants suddenly hoisted her up and, along with the dogs,

locked

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them all in the basement!

What is the meaning of this?” Whitney demanded, her eyes flashing with icy fury.

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.”

It was a contract for a vacation resort!

Whitney’s expression turned icy. This property belonged to her grandfather, and she knew that even if

the Valentine family had seized control, a transfer still required her signature.

With force, the servant pressed her hand to sign. Then they left, locking the door behind them.

Whitney and her dogs remained trapped.

Looking through the narrow window at the cold moon casting its silvery light, Whitney felt a growing

sense of wrongness.

If Yvonne only wanted a contract, why lock her up? And why with her dogs? The night’s odd events

were piecing together, and Whitney did not understand why Yvonne had brought out her dogs.

Her heartbeat quickened, and she sensed that Yvonne’s intentions were not solely about the contract.

What else could she be planning?

Whitney turned to her innocent dogs, deep in thought.

It was nearing eight. The auction would start at nine.

Her hands clenched, and her unease grew.

Suddenly, the door crashed open!

Two male servants rushed in, dragging her dogs away.

“What are you doing? What will you do to them?” Whitney stood up, trying to intervene.

“You’re quite a beauty, Whitney,” one servant said with lewd intent, caressing her face. “After tonight, I

might just have my way with you.”

The other snapped, “Shut it. Have you forgotten she might be insane? Watch out, she might bite.”

They left quickly with the dogs.

What were they planning? To kill her dogs? What was Yvonne up to?

As Whitney paced the room, a thought struck her–the servant’s mention of “she might be insane”

connected the dots.

A chill went through her as she realized Yvonne’s vicious plan. Whitney’s lips curled into a cold smile–

she had uncovered it just in time.

She immediately called her ally, Tiana.

Tiana had struggled to sneak into the estate and had just arrived at the banquet hall when she received

Whitney’s call.

3 F3 F F F

Tiana rushed to the back hill and fumed, “They dared to lock you up…”

“Shh, Tiana,” Whitney’s face was taut with urgency, “Listen, I need you to do something for me.”

Tiana noticed the unusual coldness in her eyes and leaned in as Whitney instructed, “There’s a

medicine pot in the kitchen. Here, take this syringe..”

Tiana’s expression darkened with the revelation. After rescuing Whitney from the basement, she

ground her teeth in anger. “Those evil women, to think of such a vile scheme. Whitney, you must find a

way to turn the tables.”

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“Of course.” Whitney gazed into the night, her eyes ablaze with intensity. Yvonne was after her dogs,

and she had to save them, but she did not know where they were.

Just then, a figure approached from behind, addressing her respectfully, “Madam, is there anything you

need help with?”

Whitney whirled around to see the driver who had been assigned to her these past days. She guessed

eagerly, “Did L send you?”

“Yes. He instructed me to be at your service,” the driver replied. “He said you’re usually quite self–

sufficient but to use my judgment when necessary.”

Whitney inwardly snorted at the man’s lack of sentiment yet meticulous nature. A fleeting mix of

emotions crossed her face, but having a chauffeur around was indeed a stroke of luck. She softly

instructed him with a hushed tone, and they both set off to look for the dogs.

The chauffeur managed to rescue the dogs, and Whitney felt a wave of relief wash over her. She took

a deep breath to compose herself.

Then, her eyes glinted with a hint of frostiness. She squinted towards the bustling ballroom. Tiana must

have already taken care of everything. Whitney gave a subtle cue, and the chauffeur went off to handle

the last piece of the plan.

Whitney clasped her hands together, rubbing them slightly to bring back some warmth. She squinted

and smiled; Yvonne must be itching to reap the consequences of the intricate trap she had laid out.

A perfect scheme returned to them in spades!

In the ballroom, Yvonne was the epitome of grace. Suddenly, she turned to the ladies and asked, “Did

any of you hear a dog barking?”

The wealthy matrons fell silent.

Indeed, there was the sound of a dog yelping, and it sounded agonizing!

“What’s going on?”

Yvonne’s gaze swept over the butler who rushed in, his face contorted in sheer panic as he exclaimed,

“Sir, madam, something terrible has happened! Whitney, she… she…”

“What happened to Whitney?” Yvonne rose with feigned concern.

“Whitney, she… she did something to her dogs… Please, you must come see!”

The butler’s hesitant words and his terrified expression piqued the curiosity of the elite women to the

extreme.

Yvonne and Preston exchanged a knowing look and dashed to the backyard, with the entire gathering

trailing behind.

As they moved, Yvonne glanced subtly at Roselyn in the crowd.

Catching the hint, Roselyn raised her voice and said, “Could Whitney have lost her mind?” Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“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, and whenever the name Whitney was mentioned, faces twisted with an

involuntary look of disdain.

Yvonne lowered her head, a smirk of triumph curling her lips.

“Whitney, your good days are over as of today!”