Bride Behind The Mask Novel

Chapter 296

Marguerite locked eyes with her, an intense gaze that flickered then faded, “Miley, you’re overthinking things. He probably hates me Why would he want you to call me to him?”

“You’re canying Maurice’s child, but I think Mr. Frederick is feeling conflicted It’s not good that the child is Maurice’s, he won’t accept it right away, you have to give him time”

“Yes, the child is Maurice’s. So why would he want me to leave with him?*

Miley stamped her foot in frustration, feeling like Marguerite was being stubborn

“That’s why I said he’s conflicted! Marguerite, if you go, there’s still a chance for you two. If you don’t, there’s no hope left.”

Marguerite gazed at the shimmering sea, her voice filled with sadness, “You don’t understand our relationship. He doesn’t love me at all. From the beginning, it was just my wishful thinking”

Miley held her head in her hands, completely exasperated by Marguerite, her voice uncontrollably loud, “At this point, who cares if he loves you! Marguerite, stop being so dramatic! You only get one chance, grasp it or lose it forever! Think about it!”

all she could Whether Marguerite could seize this last

villa in a huff, leaving Marguente holding the plane ticket, feeling a surge of emotions. The flight was

her head spinning. The distance between Vespera and Stonebridge was thousands of miles. But to Marguente, it felt farther than the ends of the earth Because it meant that they would part forever. There would be nothing left

with Robert’s resources, he could regain his status. She had nothing to worry about. And with Yuna giving birth

about it, the lonelier she felt. Tears streamed down

voice echoed inside her. Deep down, she wanted to run away with

had made it impossible for her to

her mind, she threw the plane ticket into the trash. Then she took some melatonin, hoping to sleep through

her that he loved her In her dreams, he waited for

woke up, it was already dark. By now, Frederick should have boarded his flight,

cleaned her tear–stained face, looked at the time, and realized it was only seven

still an hour left before Frederick’s

her countless texts, [Marguerite, there are three hours