Bride Behind The Mask (Frederick and Marguerite)

Chapter 862

Meanwhile, in the car-

The press conference venue was a good distance from Marguerite's apartment.

She'd been up so early that morning, and now, drowsiness clung to her like a heavy blanket. Leaning back against the leather seat, Marguerite closed her eyes for a quick nap, when suddenly her phone buzzed with a Facebook notification.

She opened it to see a message from Miley.

"She's finally dead. Good riddance!"

Short and to the point, followed by a news link.

Marguerite tapped it almost automatically. Shock washed over her as she realized it was news of Yuna's execution-firing squad, today.

Years ago, Yuna had pushed Penelope into the river. She'd been sentenced to life in prison at her first trial. But maybe she cracked under the pressure of prison life, because she eventually broke down-so badly that, in a fit of madness, she blurted out the truth: she'd killed her own grandmother with her own hands.

The revelation hit Marguerite like a freight train. She'd hired the best attorney she could find, determined to bring Yuna to justice and make her pay for what she'd done to their grandmother.

But the evidence wasn't strong enough, and with Ablett Lockwood and Zoe pulling strings and searching for top lawyers to defend Yuna, the case dragged on for six more months before the verdict was finally reached.

Now, seeing the outcome, Marguerite felt a strange emptiness.

She and Yuna had been sisters for over twenty years, fighting and feuding for just as long. But now that it was all over, she found she wasn't as triumphant as she'd imagined.

She let out a quiet sigh, not even bothering to reply to Miley. Before she could gather her thoughts, her phone vibrated again.

Another message.

Assuming it was

from the press conference, Marguerite

find Stella dropping a

through the screen, Marguerite could practically hear Stella's frantic, breathless

to the chase! These photos are screenshots I took from yesterday's session with

Marguerite enlarged the photo.

screen, the image wasn't

sharp and severe. He'd clearly lost weight since she'd last

of change-it had to be

hammered in her chest. Her hands trembled so badly that

just to type a single

have a selfie of

Stella replied instantly:

Silas is Freddie! I'm sure of it! The shirt Freddie's wearing in the selfie is the

zoomed in and checked

on

flash of realization, Marguerite's grip loosened and her phone slipped

a tangled mess, her chest tight, breath

through her

first time, those dark,

to shield her from drinks at a party, how he'd cared for her so tenderly when she

whispering into her ear, "Marguerite, I've missed you

the harder it was to

harsh truth closed

like a

bet

blind to the