Bride behind the mask novel (Marguerite) novel Chapter 487

Chapter 487 

“How do you want to test it?” 

Marguerite locked eyes with the man across from her, her gaze unwavering and intense. For a long moment, she said nothing. Suddenly, with a swift motion, she cupped his face in her hands and lifted her chin, leaning in to press her lips to his. 

Frederick, caught off guard, watched as her lips neared his, only to turn his head away at the last possible instant. 

Marguerite’s kiss met the air, and as Frederick rolled off her, she caught a glimpse of shock and bewilderment in the depths of his eyes. 

He had been so sure she wouldn’t dare make a move, yet he failed to realize she was tired of playing it safe. She wanted to be bold for once, even if it meant facing a world of hurt. 

Frederick sat on the edge of the bed with his back to Marguerite, his silhouette tinged with a forlorn air. Marguerite couldn’t fathom what emotions were entangling him in this moment. 

“Didn’t you say that sleeping together has nothing to do with love? So a kiss shouldn’t be a big deal, right? If you really have no feelings for me, why would you dodge?” 

Why would he dodge? Even Frederick couldn’t sort through his own feelings. Was he afraid of falling for her again, and reliving the disaster from three years ago? 

In this moment, Frederick wished he felt nothing for Marguerite. 

At least then he could deal with her advances without any qualms. 

He wouldn’t bear any accountability – whether they shared a bed or locked lips, it wouldn’t matter. But the instinctive reaction of his body and the turmoil in his mind only served to confuse his emotions further. 

“Don’t be so shameless. If you’re about to marry Maurice, stop trying so hard to seduce me.” 

“If it bothers you that much, why don’t you come and take me away on my wedding day!” Marguerite retorted with a brazen defiance. 

The words “take me away” hit Frederick like a hammer to the heart. 

His back stiffened, and after a long pause, he finally asked, “Why did you betray me back then?” 

In an instant, Marguerite was speechless. That was a chapter of her life she wished to forget, a stain on her personal history she never wanted to discuss. 

But how was she to answer him? Should she tell him she had been manipulated by Maurice? Or confess that she had no idea that Maurice was the mysterious figure behind it all? 

Even if she spoke the truth, would he believe her?