Bride Behind The Mask (Frederick and Marguerite)

Chapter 451

Marguerite sat on the edge of her bed, a bemused frown creasing her forehead. What on earth was she supposed to do now?

She couldn’t very well have Yuna come here and take them away. She could already picture it–the accusatory glares, the air thick with the scent of scandal, Yuna summoning the whole household as if she’d caught Marguerite red–handed in some illicit affair.

Then Yuna would undoubtedly play the victim, wailing about the betrayal and how Marguerite had committed the ultimate treachery.

If that happened, Marguerite won’t have peace anymore.

With a resigned sigh, Marguerite scooped Hayes up onto the bed, relenting, “If you need anything, just call for me. I’ll be in the next room over.”

The apartment was a two–bedroom suite, so with Frederick Winston deciding to camp out for the night, Marguerite had no choice but to move to the adjacent room.

Hayes curled into a little ball near the headboard, reaching out with chubby arms, his voice a soft plea, “Daddy… I’m scared…”

Frederick’s brow furrowed, pain sharpening his features. Breathing heavily, he tried to muster a gentle tone, “Boy, can you sleep by yourself tonight?”

lip quivered, “But… I’m

son. The little guy just wanted the comfort of being held–no kid should have to be brave after facing the threats and fears they had encountered

had been so severe that Frederick was already considering getting Robert to give Hayes

hold his son, but his own body betrayed him; even the slightest movement

want to cause his father more pain, so he turned those hopeful, watery eyes to

say no to that face. She embraced Hayes once more, “How about you come sleep with me

stay… with

was at a loss. So, Hayes wanted to sleep with his father but also wanted Marguerite’s embrace. Were they all supposed to share

was

Chapter 451

reason with the child, “Hayes, if we do that, Auntie

Hayes sleep in the middle,”

tension coil within her as she glanced between the man, writhing in silent agony, and the little

her life, Marguerite

someone extricate

had been through too

of impatience and pain, cut through her indecision, “Let’s not waste any more time. If we don’t sleep now, it’ll be morning. Do you want the

she gingerly climbed into bed, careful not to get too close to Frederick. Hayes was sandwiched between them, and