Bride behind the mask novel (Marguerite) novel Chapter 894

Hayes and Margot exchanged glances, hope flickering in their eyes—just as it did in Marguerite’s.

But Marguerite herself wasn't even sure what she was hoping for.

Would he say Violet’s name? Surely, he would.

Yet, at that very moment, the man’s gaze rested openly on her, as if trying to give her the answer without a single word.

Maybe she was just imagining things. Flustered, she broke eye contact, just in time to see him hand the card back and say the final name aloud.

“Manley.”

A name no one expected.

Marguerite burst into laughter. It wasn’t either of the names she’d guessed, not even close, but for some inexplicable reason it put her in a good mood.

Hayes and Margot both deflated. Margot, half-annoyed and half-anxious, shot the man an exasperated look.

“Dad, why’d you pick Manley? He’s not even here! You’re supposed to name someone who’s actually in the room!”

He stared back at his daughter, face unreadable, saying nothing.

Aberdeen glanced at the two cards, then gave a regretful sigh. “Well, that was a bust. Let’s try again next time. The rules only count for adults who are present!”

With that, Aberdeen returned to his seat. Hayes and Margot grumbled quietly, sulking as they deliberately plopped down together.

Uh-oh.

Did that mean she’d be sitting next to Silas now?

Out of the corner of her eye, Marguerite noticed he’d already leaned back, eyes half closed, showing no intention whatsoever of moving.

There were plenty of empty seats farther back. Marguerite had no desire to stay squeezed in beside him, so she decided to get up and move.

But with her seat by the window, she’d have to squeeze past him to get out. The space was cramped, and she hesitated, trying to figure out how to slip by without disturbing him.

Right then, the bus jerked to an abrupt stop. Marguerite lost her balance and instinctively lurched forward.

But a strong hand caught her wrist, steadying her. With a gentle tug, she tumbled right into his chest.

In that split second, every nerve in her body seemed to spark, her heart skipping several beats.

“Sit properly.”

His low, magnetic voice rumbled in her ear. Mortified, Marguerite slid away, stiffly putting some space between them.

“Buckle your seatbelt.”

He spoke again, this time gruff and commanding.

Her cheeks burned even hotter. She hastily fastened her seatbelt, then turned to face the window, squeezing her eyes shut in hopes of falling asleep.