Bride behind the mask novel (Marguerite) novel Chapter 847

"Have you been following me?"

"I figured you wouldn’t want to be disturbed, but this was the only way I could see you."

Marguerite's heart sank.

His voice was so full of sadness it shattered her heart into icy shards.

She wasn't angry because Silas had been trailing her; it was the fact that he would do something so reckless knowing she already had bodyguards.

What if Maurice found out? Had he not thought about the consequences?

Marguerite wasn't sure if Silas was defying Maurice, but she didn’t want him to be in danger because of her.

In Silas's case, she couldn't afford to owe him anything.

Marguerite's tense demeanor made Silas nervous. He looked at her anxiously, asking, "Are you mad?"

Marguerite was at a loss with Silas. No man had ever shown such vulnerability to her, not even Frederick.

Maybe it was because of a soft heart, or maybe out of pity, but she realized she couldn't stay mad at him.

Yet, she knew deep down that she couldn't keep up this ambiguous relationship with Silas, so she sat on the couch with a business-like demeanor and asked:

"What did Maurice say to you earlier?"

The man took a seat beside her. "Nothing much, just talked about a business deal."

"Did you agree to it?"

"Not yet."

Marguerite let out a quiet sigh of relief. "So it was just about business?"

Silas's gaze became evasive, filled with conflict and hesitation, as he looked intently at Marguerite.

"He mentioned that you two once lived together, as a couple."

Oh, for heaven's sake!

Maurice, you lying scoundrel!

When did their relationship ever resemble that of lovers?

Marguerite's eyes flashed with anger, but she felt a pang of anxiety when she met Silas's eyes.

Silas was taken aback, staring at her in disbelief, whispering, "You're not like that."

Marguerite's nose began to sting with unshed tears, yet she maintained a flippant smile, casting a frivolous glance at Silas.

"But the truth is, I am. Silas, there are plenty of men around me, don’t flatter yourself into thinking you’re the most special. I don’t love you, really."

His bewildered eyes flickered with a hint of sorrow. "You're not lying to me?"

"Why would I lie? What would be the point?"

She felt she had been clear enough, leaving no room for further conversation.

She stood to leave for the door, but as she moved past him, he caught her wrist in a firm grip.

Marguerite didn't turn around. "Let go."

"I want to try."

Try? Try what?

Marguerite frowned, just as she turned to face him, he cupped her face with his hands, and his burning lips pressed against hers.