Chapter 27


    Whitney raised an eyebrow and looked at Monica with amusement as if she were watching a court


    jester perform.


    Standing beside her, L. towered with an impable posture, tantly ignoring Monica as if she were


    beneath


    his notice.


    ‘Let’s get going,” he said, turning with an air of distinction.


    Whitney followed him, delicate and soft, which only made him seem more imposing.


    Simon watched from behind, his eyes simmering with an intense, fiery anger,


    “Whitney!” He barked, halting her in her tracks.


    Monica’s face soured instantly.


    Whitney paused, and L. nced at her. “I need to take a call. The driver will pick you up. Can you


    handle that?”


    She nodded with a faint smile.


    With a cool nce back, Whitney watched Simon approach, eyeing L as he walked away to take his


    call. “Who the hell is that guy?” Simon demanded.


    “None of your damn business.”


    “How can you associate with riffraff? Whitney, have you sunk so low?”


    “At least I’m not scavenging for coins in the gutter.”


    Her words stung Monica and Simon, and onlookers struggled to suppress theirughter.


    Monica’s face turned icy while Simon’s expression grew colder. He grabbed Whitney’s hand and


    sneered, “Riffraff without a car, right? He’s probably riding a motorcycle. I’ll take you home!”


    The sound of his car keys jingled, and the headlights of a Lamborghini shed.


    Monica feigned concern as she approached. “Oh dear sister, you must have walked here, right? You


    should be careful, especially being pregnant, even if the father’s identity is a mystery. Let Simon and


    me take you home. What if something happens to you on that motorcycle?”


    The elitedies nearby cast disdainful nces at Whitney. As beautiful as she was, it baffled them why


    she would be with a thug.


    Whitney remained silent.


    Then, the unmistakable roar of an ultra–luxury car approached, and when the onlookers recognized it,


    they collectively gasped.


    A one–of–a–kind, limited edition Bugatti Veyron–not just the car, but the consecutive numbers on the


    license te left Simon and Monica dumbfounded.


    Such a license te number symbolized power, something even the elite of Banyan City could not


    procure.


    Whose car was this?


    The driver stepped out, respectfully calling, “Ms. Valentine, your car is ready.”


    He addressed her as Ms. Valentine, not as thedy of the house, which suggested L’s directive. With a


    knowing smile, Whitney swept past the stunned Monica, Yvonne, and Preston, and gracefully got into


    the car.


    The Bugatti Veyron sped off, leaving a cloud of exhaust for the Valentine family to choke on.


    The surrounding socialites were abuzz. “Who has Whitney gotten involved with? That license te–


    only the Lippert family in Banyan City could…”


    15:00


    “No way Whitney’s involved with the Lippert family!” Yvonne interjected with scorn. “She’s ruined. She’s


    justtched onto some guy with a fake te!”


    Monica, jealous to the core but feigning sorrow, added, “She’s disgraced our father.”


    Simon’splexion turned sour. How could Whitney know a man with such a car?


    A deep resentment bubbled within him. Whitney was supposed to be his–all of her beauty, excellence,


    and capabilities should have been his!


    Land Whitney traveled in separate cars, he ahead and she following behind.


    Tiana urgently contacted her, “Did I do well, Whitney?”


    “Perfectly.” Whitney had instructed Tiana to drug Monica and take her to the basement.


    The driver had bought some dog meat to stage the scene.


    Yvonne’s ns were derailed, and everyone witnessed her supposed madness, making her


    institutionalization a foregone conclusion.


    “These two are always jumping around, but too bad for Monica–just as she stepped into high society,


    you kicked her out again. And that resort contract won’t do her any good now, haha,” Tiana said


    cheerfully. “By the way, did Mr. Lippert show up?”


    “No,” Whitney replied, distracted by her fake husband and missing her nemesis’s handsome face.


    Once at the vi, Whitney alighted from the car. L, already there, stood elegantly, smoking a cigarette–


    a mature man with a dangerously attractive demeanor.


    He nodded for her to wait as he finished his smoke.


    After the smoke cleared, he approached her with the grace of a gentleman.


    Whitney’s dogs bounded from the car. She knelt to greet them, her face softening. “They’re getting old,”


    she said. “My mother gave them to me. They’ve been with me through everything. I should’ve picked


    them up days ago. Thank you for your driver, Sir.”


    “Try again?” L raised an eyebrow.


    Whitneyughed, standing up in the evening breeze like an ethereal flower.


    He nced at her lips, and his fingers loosened his Windsor–knotted tie.


    “Thank you, L. Without you, I wouldn’t have my dogs!” She said, stepping closer to him yfully.


    “Hmph.”


    Whitney pointed to the imposing Bugatti behind her. “But you really shouldn’t use that license te.


    The cops might not like it, Sir.”


    L’s mouth twitched in response.


    His assistant grimaced, feeling sorry for the te for being mistaken as a fake.


    Then, they headed towards the vi.


    Whitney noticed the man’s formal attire, suggesting he had been at an important event. “Did youe


    back from a trip, or did you return just for this?” She asked quietly.


    His pause and deep gaze were answer enough.


    Whitney blushed, her thoughts turning to his concern for her pregnancy.


    As they neared the door, L frowned. “They can’te in!” He said, referring to the dogs.


    Whitney nced back at the stray dogs with a pang of sympathy, “They’re just like me, without a home.


    Can’t you take them in, Sir?”


    213


    15:00


    N?velDrama.Org is the owner.


    “Nope.” His response was heartlessly brief.


    “Madam, Sir is allergic to dogs! Taryn chimed in with a smile as she approached


    Oh? Whitney blinked in surprise, suddenly understanding his aversion to letting the dogs side. She had


    touched the dogs earlier, and his eyes had indeed red with rejection.


    She pouted, “Oh, I’m sorry then”


    “But Sir has a little kitty living in a separate house in the backyard. Your dogs could stay there: Taryn


    respectfully asked the man, “Sir, would that be alright?”


    He had just slipped off his suit jacket, revealing a well–built figure under his crisply pressed shirt, the


    very picture of elegance.


    He nced at Whitney and, without a word, tacitly consented.


    Taryn immediately led Whitney to the backyard.


    In front of a pink miniature vi, Whitney was almost blinded by the brightness, “Is this his cat’s house?”


    Talk about livingrge!


    They entered the spacious vi, and a pure white, aristocratic kitteny atop a luxurious cat condo,


    barely acknowledging their presence with a haughty nce.


    Just like its owner!


    Whitney turned around to see the man standing aloof outside the pink abode.


    “Aren’t youing in?”


    Taryn giggled softly, “Sir loves his cat, but he’s allergic to cat dander too, so he keeps his distance.”


    Whitney was at a loss for words.