Bride Behind The Mask (Frederick and Marguerite)

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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

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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.

Especially when her frail, soft voice seemed to coo, which could lighten anyone’s mood.

But once she regained her senses, her defenses shot up, making her approachable by no

one.

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

inside, heading straight for the villa.

Though Marguerite wanted to resist, she noticed they were home unusually early.

At this hour, Maurice and the others were probably not yet back.

Plus, she admittedly enjoyed being embraced by Frederick like this.

Marguerite knew she was being slightly self-indulgent – saying no verbally, yet desiring him physically. So, she

allowed herself this one last selfish act.

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After all, an intimate moment like this would likely never come again in her lifetime.

But Marguerite miscalculated; no sooner had they stepped out of the hallway than they saw Powell and Hackett

sitting in the living room. And there was Maurice, standing on the spiral staircase, his piercing gaze fixed

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unblinkingly on her and Frederick.

In that instant, Marguerite felt the guilty thrill of a scandal exposed.

She hastily tapped the man’s shoulder, signaling him to put her down.

But he disregarded her completely, standing defiantly in the center of the living room.

Powell exchanged an awkward glance with Jocelyn, while Hackett, livid, stood up and bellowed,

“Frederick! What in God’s name is going on here? The hugging and the holding – have you no decency? Have you

forgotten who Manley and Hayes’ mother is?”

Frederick shot him a glance, “Hackett, you seem to fancy visiting my home quite a bit lately. Why not move in?”

His tone was calm and composed, but Marguerite couldn’t miss the provocation in it.

Hackett, red-faced and furious, barked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Frederick retorted coldly, “Or, you could take Yuna back with you.”

Frederick, holding onto his chest in exasperation, stared at the pair, his glare as hot as if he’d been burned, “Just

put her down! Even I feel awkward! Frederick, Marguerite is your sister-in-law!”

Frederick arched an eyebrow, his tone laced with defiance, “Oh? Hackett, you seem to misjudge me.”

“What are you hinting at now?”

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