Love beyond the mask (Whitney) novel Chapter 1170

Ludwik suddenly lifted his head and looked at Whitney. “Whitney, did they get the bullets out of my thigh and left side?”

Whitney blinked—she honestly hadn’t thought to ask yet.

She stood up and quickly called the head surgeon.

It wasn’t long before the doctor walked into the room, carrying a stainless steel tray. “Mr. Ludwik, here are the two bullets we removed from your body. Normally, the hospital would need to notify the police, but if you’d like to handle this yourself, I can turn them over to you.”

“Thank you. I need to trace where these bullets came from. There’s no need to get the police involved.”

Ludwik’s sharp gaze made it clear this wasn’t up for discussion.

Whitney picked up on his intentions right away and took the tray from the doctor. “Thank you, doctor. Appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” The doctor, fully aware of Ludwik’s background, didn’t say much more, but he gave Whitney a gentle reminder. “Ms. Valentine, Mr. Ludwik just regained consciousness after surgery. He’s still very weak and needs to rest. Please try to keep things calm in here.”

Whitney nodded quickly—she already knew that.

As soon as the doctor left, Ludwik struggled to steady his breath and said, “Get Felix in here, fast. He needs to take the bullets and get an expert to analyze them. I have to know who Bryce is working for.”

Whitney glanced at the two blood-stained bullets in the tray, her own anger flaring. She nodded and hurried off.

Felix came to collect the bullets. Whitney poured Ludwik a glass of water and gently dabbed his lips with a damp cotton swab. “You’re thinking about Parker, aren’t you?”

Ludwik nodded. “He knows I was in surgery. If there’s any news, he should’ve reached out to you. Has he?”

Whitney shook her head. “Not all night. And there’s no way I’d try calling him myself.”

Then, for a split second, her eyes darted down to the blanket covering his abdomen, as if she couldn’t help herself.

Ludwik caught the look instantly, his face darkening, body tense, and the air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” Whitney shot back, her tone dry. “Just wondering how a man with a few... permanent modifications still thinks he can flirt with other women.”

That hit him hard. His dark brows drew together dangerously. “First thing you do when I wake up is tell me I’m old, then you go after that? Whitney, do you really hate me that much?”

He paused, then his voice softened, hurt. “And by the way, are you ‘other women’? You’re the woman I love. Am I not allowed to joke with the woman I love?”

His eyes were so intense, Whitney had no doubt if he were able, he’d prove his “strength” in other ways.

A flush crept up her cheeks. “You love so many women, Ludwik. Want me to start listing them, or should we just stick to the highlights?”