Bride Behind The Mask (Frederick and Marguerite)

Chapter 548

In a flash, the urge to throttle Marguerite surged through him like a wildfire!

It didn’t take long for Chuck to arrange a ride to the hospital to pick them up. After lifting Marguerite into the car, Chuck’s call came through almost immediately.

“Mr. Winston, the brake pads on Marguerite’s car weren’t tampered with. It’s just wear and

tear.”

“Got it.” He hung up and turned to Marguerite as if to prove something, “The results are in. Yuna had nothing to do with it.”

“So, what you’re implying is that it’s somehow related to you?” Marguerite’s voice was barely audible, caught in her throat.

A cold flash passed through Frederick’s deep-set eyes, his tone turning sharp with annoyance, “It’s related to no one, the brake pads simply wore out! Marguerite, is that really what you think of me? That desperate?”

“You yourself said you loathed me to the core, and when there’s hate like that, guess anything’s possible, huh?”

Frederick’s lips pressed into a tight line, a storm of displeasure brewing within.

Communicating with this woman was becoming intolerable! Annoyed, he turned his gaze out the window, his mind wandering back to an hour earlier, to Marguerite’s disoriented

state.

They say men don’t fancy smart women, and Frederick had always scoffed at that notion. Now, it seemed there might be some truth to it.

Marguerite, out of sorts, might babble nonsense, but she wasn’t unlikeable.

soft voice seemed to

her defenses shot up, making her approachable by no

one.

car fell silent again until they reached the Winston Mansion half an hour later. Frederick carried Marguerite inside,

resist, she noticed

this hour, Maurice and the others were probably

admittedly enjoyed being embraced by Frederick like this.

was being slightly self-indulgent – saying no verbally, yet desiring him

1/3

08:57

moment like this would likely never come again in her lifetime.

out of the hallway than they saw Powell and Hackett sitting in the living room. And there was

instant, Marguerite felt the guilty thrill of a

signaling him to put her

standing defiantly in

while Hackett, livid, stood up and bellowed,

going on here? The hugging and the holding – have you no decency? Have you forgotten

him a glance, “Hackett, you seem to fancy visiting my

composed, but Marguerite couldn’t miss the provocation

“What’s that supposed to

retorted coldly, “Or, you could

as if

arched an eyebrow, his tone laced with defiance,

you hinting