Bride Behind The Mask

Chapter 600

Marguerite’s brain short-circuited, and her whole body stiffened in shock.

Uh… How on earth did this man know about the incident at the factory?

She blinked rapidly, shaking her head in denial, “I… When did I ever say that?”

She hadn’t spilled the beans, not at all! It was Miley who had let it slip out unintentionally!

But what was truly baffling was that he wasn’t even there that day. How could he possibly know about

it?

Marguerite’s mind raced with wild thoughts, only to be interrupted by Frederick’s light, mocking

laughter.

“I heard you called me arrogant, tyrannical, obsessed, and insufferable? Marguerite, you’ve got quite

the vocabulary. How come I’ve never noticed?” Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

Marguerite’s mouth hung open, a chill running down her spine.

Hold on! Weren’t these the very words she had used to vent about Frederick with the factory’s

manager, Zack, behind his back? How could this man have repeated them verbatim?

Had he bugged her? No way! Impossible!

Did Miley spill it? That didn’t seem right either. The most likely culprit had to be Zack!

After all, Frederick had been in touch with Zack before she and Miley had visited the factory.

And surely, after their departure, Zack would have reported back to him, right? That sneaky rat!

Zack had acted all sweet and generous, trying to cover his tracks, and now he had backstabbed her?

Miley was right all along! Zack was a double-dealer!

Marguerite swallowed hard, deciding that if Frederick was going to keep using this to get under her

skin, she wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction.

She thought quickly and said with a hint of mischief, “Actually, those weren’t all my words. Others had

their say too.”

Frederick’s eyebrows twitched, clearly hooked, “Others? Who? What did they say?”

“Just others.” Marguerite grinned teasingly, leaving him hanging with anticipation.

Her eyes danced with a probing intent as she casually dropped another bait, “Speaking of which…

some were wondering if Mr. Winston has a beloved ex-wife. Is there any truth to that, Mr. Winston?”

Frederick’s posture stiffened, a twinge of vulnerability showing through.

Then, to his surprise, he noticed Marguerite lifting his hand to her eye level.

Upon a closer look, it wasn’t Marguerite holding his hand at all.

He had been clutching her wrist all this time without letting go.

And there she was, looking smug as if she had caught him in a moment of weakness.

Caught off guard, he released his grip and straightened up, uneasily dismissing her with four words,

“Just rumors, nothing more.”

Marguerite shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes glinting with amusement.

Frederick had never seen such a sharp look in Marguerite’s eyes, as if piercing straight to his soul.

Trying to cover his fluster, he turned away, dropping a “Get some rest” before striding off.

Marguerite watched his broad, retreating figure, feeling utterly surprised.

With his temperament, she had expected an explosive denial to her probing question.

But instead, while he did deny it, his emotion wasn’t the anger she had anticipated.

Was that a hint of defiance she saw?

What was going on?

At that moment, the living room clock struck twelve, its chimes echoing the olden times.

It was past midnight, and she really should get some rest.

Marguerite quickly gathered her thoughts and retreated to her room.

Everything that had happened today had left her utterly drained. She had planned to talk to Teresa

about the portrait, but it seemed she would have to find another opportunity.