Bride Behind The Mask Novel

Maurice was composed. The faces of Hayes and Marguerite seemed to overlap in front of him. The sound of their conversation became clearer and clearer.

“Hayes, this part is wrong. The castle door should be an arch, not a square one, understand?”

“Uh huh.”

1 heard from Teresa that you won the shooting game today? You’re quite the gamer, a smart little guy, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

No wonder Maurice always felt a peculiar connection between Hayes and Marguerite. He was Marguerite’s son! Her very own son!

“Mr. Winston, three years ago, Yuna colluded with Hammond to deal with Frederick’s paternity test and snatched Ms. Marguerite’s son. As for the details, Ill report to you in detail when you go to the company tomorrow. The priority now is to tell Ms. Marguerite the truth. She seemed quite worried when I saw her last.”

Maurice lowered his gaze, his tone indifferent, “I know, I’ll tell her right away.”

Before Maurice had a chance to finish the call, Marguerite was already approaching him. Unaware that Maurice was still on the phone due to his Bluetooth headset, she cut straight to the chase, “Weren’t we supposed to find out about my son’s whereabouts today? Any leads?”

“Yes”

Marguerite’s heart started pounding as she dragged Maurice to the corner, urgently asking.

on? Where’s my son?!”

“Marguerite, your son…”

deep eyes looked at Marguerite, but his sudden silence left her

also his child. But she didn’t see any joy or happiness that he should

was he struggling with? Could it be that something

stand there silent! What happened to my

shook his head, his tone as usual, “Not now, but I do know that he’s doing

want to

that you’ll marry me in a month, and

her rage, Marguerite’s hatred

you knew where my son was all along, didn’t you? You knew where he was but you deliberately didn’t

held Marguerite’s hand, tightening his grip.

you want to lose your temper with me? Do you think anyone would help you? Or do you think that if you

could slap Maurice in the face. But meeting his stern gaze, she pursed her lips and gritted out a word, “Get

still as Marguerite shook off his hand and stormed upstairs. Tears, no longer

so-called play of fate?