Bride Behind The Mask (Frederick and Marguerite)

Chapter 549

In an instant, the air crackled with tension as Frederick and Maurice locked eyes, a fiery spark seeming to ignite and sizzle between them.

Marguerite felt suffocated, trapped between the two men. She couldn’t understand why Frederick, who clearly didn’t love her, always used her to provoke Maurice. She hated it because it gave her the false hope that Frederick still held some affection for her.

Maurice held Marguerite so tightly she could barely breathe. Desperate to end this silent standoff, she quickly patted Maurice on the shoulder and pleaded, “Can we please just go? I’m feeling awful, I need to rest in my room”

Maurice shot Frederick a glare that could cut steel before turning on his heel, carrying Marguerite toward the staircase.

Hackett was still seething with anger, turning to Powell with a face twisted in resentment.

Powell, taking a break from his usual silence, reprimanded from his wheelchair, “Frederick! What the hell did you say earlier? What if Yuna heard you? How would she feel?”

Frederick’s response was nonchalant, “What’s it to her?”

Powell heaved a deep sigh and threw a last glance at Maurice and Marguerite’s retreating figures, raising his voice just enough for all to hear, “What’s it to her? She’s your betrothed, isn’t she?”

“Betrothed? Since when?”

arranged it. Now that Hackett has brought her back to the

Frederick had been promised to each other since birth; no wonder Hackett kept showing up at the mansion to

as Maurice carried her to her room. As soon as they were inside, she quickly demanded,

on the edge of the bed, clearly not intending to leave.

instinctively shrank back, putting some distance between them. “Explain what?”

were you

was a coincidence. My car crashed into his.” She didn’t

working at the same company as Frederick, so

Maurice’s piercing gaze was unsettling, “Don’t lie to me. Stonebridge City has thousands of roads, a million cars. You’re telling me it’s just a coincidence that you both happened to be on the same street

a thing as fate,” Marguerite retorted coolly, stirring

voice rising

say, you won’t believe me, so why ask?”

why should I believe

back, “Then lock me

of the energy to argue, she burrowed into the bedclothes,

and close the door behind you!”