Bride Behind The Mask (Frederick and Marguerite)

Chapter 11

No sooner had Yuna left than Marguerite got a call for an interview from the design department of Luxe Scents International. She could hardly believe her ears. She’d sent out a ton of resumes and LuxeScents, being a globally renowned perfume company, was the one she had the least hope for. But to her surprise, it turned out to be the only one that got back to her and invited her for an interview.

Marguerite figured as long as she could get a foot in the door at Luxe Scents, she could take her grandma and get the heck out of chaotic Stonebridge City for good once her grandma gets better. She had no idea that she was in for a world of challenges.

Half an hour later.

Marguerite, all giddy and jittery, rushed to the headquarters of LuxeScents International. She was escorted by a secretary straight to the top floor of the building. As the secretary pushed open the glass door, Marguerite was gobsmacked. She was just a simple country girl who’d never seen such grandeur.

The office was bathed in light, surrounded by floor–to–ceiling windows on three sides. The lush greenery and flowers made her feel like she’d stepped into a fairyland What made her more anxious was the gathering of people in the reception area with her perfume sample displayed in the center of the table.

Were all these folks here to interview her?

the crowd by the window. He stood out like a sore thumb among the crowd, emanating an aura of power, like a natural–born ruler. Something

Marguerite’s personal details she’d filled out earlier, he respectfully said, “Mr. Winston, the

glanced at the document, then abruptly turned

by his piercing gaze,

his navy blue suit, tailored to perfection. The mole by his eye added an air

react. Frederick! What was he doing here?

a low voice, staring at

a coldness as he sternly said, “I should be the one asking you that. Marguerite, you’ve got guts! Trying to stick

mansion so easily

makers assisting with the interview exchanged glances. They were surprised enough that this plain–looking woman in simple clothes could design the Polar Radiance perfume. Even

judging by their conversation, they seemed to have some

she tried to explain, he would stubbornly believe she was after something. So, she decided to adopt the stance of a job applicant and firmly denied his accusations. “Mr. Winston, I’m a competition participant. I anonymously submitted my perfume design to your company half a month ago. I didn’t know you then, nor did

gaze was icy. He strode over to Marguerite, “So you’re