Bride behind the mask novel (Marguerite) novel Chapter 845

"The phone just doesn’t cut it, you know? Get Marguerite over here, quick! I’m in a real bind!"

Stella's tone was a mix of whining and sweetness, and Marguerite could see a hint of exasperation flicker across Maurice's features.

He shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Seriously? Miley’s pregnant, and you’re still not letting Robert go?"

Stella fell silent at once, and Marguerite stared at him, utterly gobsmacked.

The news of Miley's pregnancy was supposed to be top secret, known only to those directly involved. Even Penelope and Jocelyn were completely in the dark.

So how on earth did Maurice know?

Marguerite was still grappling with her confusion when Stella's voice erupted from the phone, loud and incredulous:

"Miley’s pregnant? No way! Marguerite, how could you keep something this huge from me? Get over here this instant!"

Marguerite could clearly hear the anger in Stella's voice—it didn’t sound staged at all.

But how could she possibly explain?

Maurice, seeing her predicament, stepped in to help Marguerite out of the bind. “Alright, alright. She’s pregnant now, so maybe you should just back off.”

“Why should I? As they say, if you swing the hammer well, there's no wall you can’t knock down! Maurice, you should know that better than anyone, right?”

Stella's cheeky retort left Maurice momentarily speechless. He cast a meaningful glance at Marguerite, his smile deepening until he finally relented.

“Alright, I’ll get her to you.”

As soon as Maurice hung up, Marguerite's demanding voice filled the car. “How did you know about Miley’s pregnancy?”

The traffic light turned red, and Maurice slowed the car to a stop, turning to look at Marguerite intently. But instead of answering, he posed a question of his own.

“What about you? What’s going on between you and Stella?”

Marguerite was taken aback, momentarily at a loss.

“Between us? There’s nothing going on. We don’t have anything in common.”

“I think we could do with a little more trust.”

Marguerite remained silent, and Maurice added, “Don’t worry, I won’t be following you inside.”

They soon arrived at Stella’s psychology clinic, a grand standalone house in an estate. The red bricks, sprawling ivy, and the whole setup had a charming, vintage vibe to it.

Marguerite got out of the car, leaning on the doorframe to look at Maurice. “You’re really not coming in?”

Maurice shook his head. “No need.”

Without further ado, Marguerite slammed the door shut and headed straight into the house without looking back.

Stella's office was on the third floor, and the door was closed. Marguerite knocked.

When there was no immediate response, she raised her hand to knock again.

Unexpectedly, the door opened a crack, and a strong arm reached out, pulling Marguerite into a warm embrace before she could react.