Love beyond the mask (Whitney)



Liam wanted nothing more than to strangle the woman before him.

As he watched her pitiful appearance, his heart shattered with her every word.

Leaning against the doorway, he paused, his presence commanding like a king as he looked down on her miserable face.novelbin

Slipping his hand into his pocket with a smirk, he began, "Sorry about this. How about I step out and let Bryce have another go? But, can he really stand up to Hugh to save you? He doesn't have the guts; he's nothing but a coward."

His words were merciless, cutting deep with sarcasm.

Whitney trembled, the deep timbre of his voice gripping her nerves. Her gaze, desperate and scattered, tried to meet his. When her eyes finally rested on his dark, mature features, she recognized him.

It was really him...

In that moment, her heart ached as if seared by a hot iron.

He was the source of her pain, yet also her savior, time and again.

Could this cruel cycle ever change?

Hiding her bitter smile and the strangeness within, she feigned surprise, "It's you?"

Liam's handsome lips curved, "I see your disappointment."

His cold laughter echoed in his eyes.

Turning away indifferently, "I'll let Hugh continue then."

Whitney's temple throbbed!

The terrifying experience of being almost suffocated by vodka was not something she wished to relive. She glanced at the toilet water and the bodyguard covered in blood.

As Liam moved to step away, driven by a will to survive, she crawled towards him, her body a mess, clutching at his trouser leg.

The expensive fabric of his pants felt cold and hard in her grasp, just like his icy demeanor.

Suddenly, he stopped.

Whitney looked up, her eyes wet and helpless, biting her lip as he saw her.

From his vantage point, she appeared disheveled, soft, and pitiable. Yet, her eyes betrayed her; she had never truly submitted, never truly sought his help out of anything but a desperate will to live.

Liam's gaze darkened, watching her coolly, "Deep down, you don't want my help. So proud, yet now you can't let me go? Afraid? If you've chosen this path, face the consequences. Should I save you or not? You tell me."

Tears welled up in Whitney's eyes.

He was trampling on her pride, playing with her dignity.

It was her mention of 'Bryce' that had provoked him.

She understood.

With difficulty, she gritted her teeth, "Save me."

Watching her struggle, her face turning pale, Liam's dark eyes deepened. She reeked of alcohol.

Finally, he reached out, coldly pulling her up, "How much did they make you drink?"

"Two bottles..."

That was a lot of vodka.

Liam's eyes narrowed. The woman in his arms was weak, her breaths shallow, her wet hair sticking to her pale face.

He moved her towards the sink.

Positioning her at the sink, he turned on the faucet, his strong hand pressing her head under the running water.

Whitney, confused and slow to react, panicked, "I don't want to touch the water!"

"What are you doing? Stop... Bryce, Bryce, save me..."

Her words halted abruptly as she realized her repeated plea for Bryce.

Liam, his patience wearing thin, asked calmly, "Who are you calling for?"

"Ah... stop pouring on me!" Whitney's desperate attempts to escape only fueled his anger. She feared him more than the injured bodyguard.

Liam's patience snapped at her continuous cries for Bryce.

Imagining her in this state,

potentially on the verge of alcohol poisoning, with Bryce, sparked a raging jealousy within him. The

thought of what might pen

between her and Bryce in this confined space, especially ith their

marriage looming, drove him to a breaking point.

He kissed her fiercely, an act of desperation and control.

Whitney struggled weakly, her punches soft against his imposing figure.

Lifting her onto the sink, the situation spiraled out of control. Her tears, mixed with the scent of alcohol and smoke, marked a battle she couldn't win.

Liam's eyes, dark with desire and resentment, watched her closely His grip tightened as he mentioned the child they had lost, a twisted notion of revenge clouding his mind.

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Whitney, pushed beyond her limits, slapped him. The act of defiance was quickly followed by a wave of nausea.

She pushed him away, stumbling down from the sink, her body convulsing with vomit.

Liam watched, a part of him expecting this outcome, as he wiped his lips clean.

The imprint of her hand on his cheek, a small reminder of their tumultuous bond.

The icy indifference returned to his gaze as he tossed a box of tissues her way before his tall, imposing figure walked away, leaving nothing but a cold draft in his wake.

Whitney was throwing up so violently, it felt like her stomach was about to come up too.

It was horrendous, but once she was done, that dreadful feeling eased up considerably. The pounding headache seemed to subside, and her breathing became much smoother.

Coming back to her senses, she realized the man was no longer in the restroom.

If not for the vivid memory of that intense kiss, she might have doubted whether Liam had been there at all.

But he had been there.

Whitney looked down to see the bodyguard collapsed on the floor, bleeding out.

She cleaned herself up, exhausted, and hesitantly opened the door to peek outside the booth.

Hugh was nowhere to be seen.

Liam had saved her after all. He hadn't gone back on his word.

Her feelings were a whirlwind as she covered her bitten lip and staggered out.

Outside the booth, Tiana stood weakly in front of Liam.

There was a cut on the man's lip, which Tiana stared at for a long moment before hearing his cold, indifferent question, "What secret of Hugh's does

she hold?"

Tiana glanced discreetly at booth 088, piecing together that Whitney had been rescued by him!

Her heart fluttered with gratitude, and she immediately opened her mouth to speak-