Bride behind the mask novel (Marguerite) novel Chapter 783

Marguerite fluttered her eyelids open, her sapphire eyes suddenly sparking to life. "Really?"

The man nodded, his gaze filled with adoration. "Really."

"Nothing happened?"

"Of course not."

"I didn't call you 'honey' or anything?"

Silas instinctively shook his head but seeing Marguerite's hopeful look, he reluctantly nodded, "No, you didn't."

Marguerite puffed her cheeks in relief, silently thanking her lucky stars, before finally offering the man in front of her a beaming smile.

Her smile was captivating, yet Silas couldn't fathom why this woman often seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, as if she'd been through the wringer.

Doom and gloom, that's what she was.

Marguerite slipped on her shoes and grabbed the contract, heading for the door. "We still have an agreement to honor. Here's to a fruitful collaboration, Mr. Ward."

This 'Mr. Ward' had Silas feeling unexpectedly pleased, whisking him back to simpler times.

But this bizarre feeling made him pause.

Simpler times?

Which simpler times?

His mind drew a blank, yet he found himself calling out to her, "Wait."

Marguerite turned around, "Yes?"

"You never told me your name?"

Marguerite stilled.

She had met Silas twice now, and he was her benefactor.

And yet, she hadn't introduced herself.

"Marguerite."

Silas furrowed his brows, "Like my daughter?"

Marguerite offered a light smile, "You can't claim dibs on names! We don't share a last name. Goodbye, Mr. Ward!"

But he did nothing, just watched her quietly throughout the night.

It was a peculiar feeling, one that Silas couldn't make heads or tails of.

So, what was wrong with him?

Silas lay back on his bed, Marguerite's scent still lingering on the sheets. He inhaled deeply, confusion and turmoil swirling within him.

Meanwhile, Marguerite remembered parking her car at the club's parking lot. She quickly hailed a cab to the club and called Chuck.

"In thirty minutes, I want everything on Silas."

Chuck froze, "Marguerite, who's Silas?"

"If I knew who he was, would I need you to find out?" she retorted.

"...Alright, I'll do my best."

Marguerite was about to hang up but then remembered something crucial and quickly added:

"And find me photos of him before he was burned!"