Bride Behind The Mask Novel

Chapter 39

Marina Shores Village was just an hour’s drive away from Stonebridge City, tucked away in the countryside. But Frederick, with his foot heavy on the gas, made it there in less than half an hour.

By sunset, the village was filled with the salty, fishy scent of the sea breeze.

Robert held his breath, but Frederick’s was dark and grim. His gaze landed on an old, dilapidated warehouse surrounded by thorny bushes.

Wincing through the pain, Frederick pushed his way through the bushes, heading straight for the warehouse pinpointed in Google Maps.

Each step he took felt heavier than the last.

The stench from the surrounding dump was so bad that it had Robert following behind him sneezing like crazy.

With his nose covered, Robert could barely hide his anger. “Who on earth did Marguerite piss off? Who would go so far as to dump her here? This is just sick!”

Just then, there was a shabby and dirty beggar, and his hair was all over the place. He sat in the pile of garbage gnawing on moldy bread. Seeing Frederick and Robert approaching, he picked up a steel pipe and began to menacingly stride towards them.

“This is my turf. Who the hell are you guys?”

Robert was taken aback. “Is this guy out of his mind?”

Before he had even finished his sentence, the beggar was swinging the steel pipe at them. Frederick dodged swiftly. Caught off guard, Robert was forced to block the incoming pipe with his hand.

Frederick shot a glance at the situation. “You handle this guy, and I’ll go find Marguerite!”

With pressure mounting, Robert was livid. “Frederick, make it quick! This guy is stronger than he looks!”

caught up in a struggle with

from outside illuminated the darkness, revealing a flurry of moths and bats

grimmer than before as he

eerily silent, with only his anxious echo

as he moved further in, the light grew dimmer. He pulled out his phone, using the flashlight to guide his path. Then he noticed a large bag on

hinted at a vague human shape inside, and Frederick’s heart pounded in

thinking, “Oh my

thought, he rushed over and opened

barely breathing and was cold as

the ropes around her hands and feet, calling her

breath was faint and she remained unconscious, unable to hear

his coat, draping it over Marguerite’s frail body. Then he gently picked

through the bushes. Sporting a new injury on his face,

tight as he opened the car door and quickly got

hit the gas, and the engine roared

with a string of firecrackers

under the car, and Frederick instinctively

had fallen, and the dim streetlights illuminated

touching her wounds,

a punch to the gut,

Who had she offended?

not only hurt her but to tie her up and abandon her

thought of the beggar

Could it be him?