Bride behind the mask novel (Marguerite) novel Chapter 839

Silas felt like he had an answer, but he wasn't ready to admit it.

Marguerite quickly fetched a bottle of perfume from the bedroom, coldly pressing it into Silas's hand with an air of detachment.

"Mr. Ward, here's what you asked for. The project's already underway, so you don't need to worry about it. It's getting late; you should head home and get some rest."

Her words were a clear dismissal, but the sadness in Silas's eyes kept him rooted to the spot.

Marguerite was desperate to get him to leave!

She shot him a look that said it all.

What are you waiting for?

Just go!

If he didn't leave soon, Maurice would definitely start asking questions!

To be honest, she'd always turned a blind eye when Maurice chased away the men hovering around her.

She didn't like too many guys hanging around, so whether they stayed or left didn't matter to her.

But she didn't want Silas to get hurt.

She couldn't explain why.

They stood in silence for a long time until Silas finally spoke, "Do you really want me to go?"

Marguerite's expression cracked for a moment. She steadied herself and responded in a businesslike manner.

"Mr. Ward, what do you mean? My humble abode isn't fit for guests, I'm afraid."

Silas let out a self-deprecating laugh.

He'd been foolish.

She probably didn't want the other guy to get the wrong idea.

Silas nodded slightly and turned to leave.

But Maurice's unexpected voice stopped him in his tracks. "Hey, Silas, how's that headache of yours?"

Silas's fingers dug into his palm, but he didn't let Marguerite see any of it.

"Ah, I see. I'm doing much better now, thanks."

"Silas, you're so hands-on, even coming to pick up a sample yourself. But you should leave these tasks to your assistant next time. It's late, and if your fiancée finds out, she might get the wrong idea. Don't you think?"

Hayes stood frozen, holding his breath.

Even a kid could feel the tension in the air, and Marguerite was worried they'd start arguing.

Her hand reached for Maurice's arm, her voice softening, "Come on, aren't you going to let him get some rest?"

Marguerite had never been this forward with him before. Her touch was gentle, not intimate, even a bit defensive.

Maurice glanced at her delicate fingers, sensing her vulnerability, but knew it was for another man.

Annoyed, he took her wrist in his hand and slowly moved her palm away from his arm.

"I haven't finished my conversation with Silas."