Love Beyond the Mask

Chapter 247

With a snap, the curtain was drawn back, not gently but with a deliberate slowness that came from the

powerful grip of a man’s hand. Ludwik’s gaze locked with the delicate features of the woman before

him, and for a moment, he was stunned. The darkness that had

hovered for a few seconds was quickly replaced by an icy gleam in his eyes, a harbinger of the storm

to come.

Whitney quickly withdrew her hand, which he had unwittingly pressed down. Her cold and alluring eyes

were fixed on his face.

Three years had seemingly only endowed this man with a more mature and handsome presence. His This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

chiseled features bore the weight of experience, making him even more mysterious and formidable.

But at that moment, Whitney’s legs and throat suddenly flared up with pain so intense it made her scalp

tingle and her lips clench tightly.

Ludwik stared at her, his mind also flashing back to that night–the night this woman abandoned their

son, the night he stood alone in the morgue beside the small, lifeless body of their other child.

Rising suddenly, he seized Whitney by the neck, his towering frame cornering her against a piece of

medical equipment, his anger scorching. “I knew you weren’t dead, you viperous witch! How dare you

show your face to me again? Looking for death?”

o is as I s

His fingers showed no mercy as they tightened.

Whitney coughed swiftly, but a mocking smile bloomed on her lips, her eyes filled with incredulous

irony.

After abandoning her and their child for another woman, he had the audacity to call her a viperous

witch?

A chill ran through her gaze as she deftly countered his grip with a twist

of her slender neck, escaping his control with ease.

Standing with her back to the desk, her heels pointed dangerously at his vulnerability, she arched an

eyebrow. “Excuse me, sir, but what are you talking about? Do I know you?”

Ludwik’s pupils dilated, his frustration tinged with uncertainty as he

stared at her.

The woman before him, with her delicate features, was unmistakable

even if he were reduced to ashes.

She had grown even more beautiful than three years ago. Her fair skin seemed translucent as if she

had been ill, and her features remained lovely. Her hair had curled, and her eyes had changed

completely.

Before they were cunning and bright, adorable and full of adoration and humility when they looked at

him. They were windows to her love.

Now, those very same eyes seemed empty of his reflection.

A surge of inexplicable annoyance welled up inside him.

He tried to ignore it, reaching up to viciously pinch her chin. “Stop playing games with me. I don’t have

the patience to deal with bitches like you. What’s your new angle after three years? Blackmail?

Extortion? Pretending to be a doctor to seduce me? Felix!”

“Drag her out and give her a proper send–off!” His eyes showed no trace of emotion, filled with

loathing.

Felix pushed the door ajar and, upon seeing Whitney’s face, was struck

with utter shock.

“Madam!”

Whitney strode to the door, slamming it shut with authority.

Turning to face the furious man, she flipped through the medical chart with boredom, “Seduce you? Mr.

Lippert, you flatter yourself. According

to this chart, you’ve been having erectile dysfunction for quite some

17:10

time, and I doubt I possess such formidable charm.”

Damn it, Whitney had gained a sharp tongue in three years, and she was no longer picky with her

words.

Her eyes, lively yet cold, seemed to lack a heart.

Dressed in a crisp white lab coat, her long hair casually pinned up with a pen, a stray curl brushed

against her charming face.

She stood next to the equipment, facing him, her tall figure imposing as she gestured with a cord.

“Please, take a seat and remove your shirt and your slacks.”

Ludwik’s veins throbbed with fury at her familiar yet indifferent demeanor. He felt as though this woman

was both familiar and a complete stranger to him.

Pressing a hand to his temple, he imperiously made a call, “Who’s running this place? Get them here

now! I want this impostor fired immediately!”

Suddenly, her soft fingers snatched the phone from his hand.

As their skin briefly touched, a jolt of electricity sparked between them, sending a shiver down Ludwik’s

spine and through his limbs. He stiffened, and Whitney tossed the phone onto the desk.

Crossing her arms, she spoke with cool detachment. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lippert, but this hospital belongs to

the Lippert family under the Imperial Gem Corporation. I’m afraid you don’t have the authority to

dismiss me. Didn’t you do your homework before coming in for treatment?”

Ludwik’s brooding eyes narrowed slightly.

This was Orion Lippert’s hospital.

He had not given it much thought; Elaine had insisted he come, so he showed up to appease her.

17:10

His brows twitched as Whitney continued in a strictly professional tone, “Please, sit down and

cooperate with the examination.”

“I’m not sick. What kind of doctor are you, anyway? Get out.”

“I notice your complexion is a bit off, dark circles under your eyes. It seems you’re a bit run down.

What, worn out from three blissful years with Elaine? That’s quite pitiable.”

She leaned against the desk, studying the chart with an air of

indifference.

Ludwik paused mid–smoke, his forehead vein throbbing as he tried to discern any hint of discomfort on

her placid face.

Did she not feel the slightest bit of revulsion saying such things?

Apparently not; she was entirely detached.

Enraged, he advanced, his cigarette–holding hand gripping her waist.

Beneath the lab coat, her waist was as enticingly slender as he

remembered.

His eyes flickered momentarily, and he swallowed hard, repulsed as he grasped her. “Weren’t you

pretending not to recognize me just now? And now you do. Your lies are revolting. I don’t want to

exchange another word with you. Get out. Leave Banyan City, or I’ll make sure you wish you were

dead!”

Whitney could not fathom the depth of hatred in his eyes.

S 20 F

Most likely, since her ‘death‘ was unverified, who knew what Elaine had fed him?

This brainless, worthless man. She told herself she was over it, but recalling everything, her heart still

hurt.

Her hand found his on her waist, her cool gaze sharpening. “Does it really matter whether I recognize

you or not? Much like that last night three years ago when I finally saw you for who you are, Mr.

Lippert.”

As her words fell, his grip was twisted by a gentle but firm force, sending him stumbling back.

Ludwik’s eyes narrowed at the woman.

Three years apart, and she had learned some self–defense?

The man gracefully rotated his wrist, his lips curling in contempt. “You’ve got some nerve, biting back

now. That night three years ago, how you treated me, our child, I’ll never forget. Since you’ve returned,

don’t bother leaving. Whitney, I’ll make sure your life is a living hell.”

Using a child to break free, abandoning him–Ludwik’s barren three years would have been unbearable

without his son and Elaine.

Whitney clenched her fists under the table, her resolve hardening against Elaine’s manipulative tactics.

The nerve of that woman!

“And you, you jerk, just wait and see the price you’ll pay for this,” She thought.

Her face was a mask of calm, the cool detachment of a seasoned

doctor. She glanced at the clock. “My consultation fee isn’t exactly pocket change. Are you sure you

want to spend it on a trip down memory lane instead of discussing your treatment?”

The man’s mature charm barely concealed his darkening mood as he pressed his lips together in a

brooding silence.

Her indifference, laced with a hint of languor, was strangely alluring.

Whitney continued, “Sorry, but my time is precious. If you have a problem with your doctor, you’re free

to find another one. Assistant, please send in my next patient!”

“You have another patient?” Ludwik’s gaze was icy as he remained seated, his tall frame casting a long

shadow.

Whitney’s eyes briefly swept over his crossed legs, the lines of his trousers sharp and immaculate, his

shirt hugging a well–built torso.

His face was perfection personified, exuding a cold, mature allure.

With a slight smirk, she retorted with indifference, “Of course, the fee of being treated by the head of

andrology doesn’t come cheap. Don’t get in the way of my paycheck, Mr. Lippert.”

The term “head of andrology” seemed to strike a nerve, rolling over Ludwik’s composure like a

steamroller.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint why he felt so irked, but his frustration was palpable as he stood up abruptly,

leaning heavily on her desk, his voice laced with a venomous threat, “You tramp, is that what you

enjoy? Treating men all day?

Let me remind you, Whitney, we haven’t been to the courthouse for a divorce yet. Legally, you’re still

my wife. Don’t embarrass me. If I catch you offering your ‘professional services‘ to any other man, you’ll

regret it!”