Bride behind the mask novel (Marguerite) novel Chapter 857

Marguerite’s heart lurched. Instinctively, she clutched the edge of the velvet curtain and snapped, “Don’t come in! I’m not dressed.”

Maurice hesitated outside, sounding both exasperated and helpless. “Alright, I won’t come in. Just tell me—are you hurt?”

Marguerite glanced at Silas’s forearm. The bloody imprint of teeth was stark and horrifying.

She turned away, voice flat. “I’m fine. I’ll be out soon.”

“Okay. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

Only after Maurice’s footsteps faded did Marguerite look back at Silas.

His face was calm, as if the ugly wound on his arm didn’t even exist.

But Marguerite knew all too well just how much pain she was in.

“The wedding’s tomorrow,” she said quietly. “Can you just stop coming to see me?”

“I’ll leave as soon as I finish,” Silas replied.

“Then make it quick.”

Her cool, distant gaze wounded him, but his eyes were still earnest, burning with hope. “I’ll wait for you tomorrow.”

“I’ve told you so many times—I’m not going. And if I do, it’ll only be to wish Claire well. It has nothing to do with you.”

Silas, Polar Radiance is my life’s work. Do you really think I’d throw everything away for a man I’ve known less than a month?”

Silas said nothing. Instead, with his injured arm, he gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing away the last trace of blood from her lips.

Before leaving, his eyes lingered on the tailored suit laid out nearby. His voice was soft. “Marguerite, this isn’t your style. I don’t like it.”

He could admit that Marguerite was a force to be reckoned with in business.

But beneath her strength and fragile resilience was a gentleness—a woman who didn’t need to hide behind a façade of power, especially not with clothes that tried too hard.

The woman he loved didn’t have to pretend. She just had to be herself, and that was enough.

He just didn’t know if she’d give him that chance tomorrow.

Silas slipped out, drawing the curtain behind him. Only after his footsteps faded did Marguerite’s strength finally desert her. She collapsed onto the stool, utterly spent.