Chapter 126
Bride Behind The Mask
âIâm allergic to makeup.â
Marguerite swiveled her head, dodging the manâs arm nervously and taking a halfâstep back.
The man noticed her movements, but didnât react.
Suddenly, he raised his arm and his muscular arm immediately moved behind Margueriteâs head.
Marguerite was momentarily stunned as the tension at the back of her head dissipated, her hair tie was untied by the manâs long fingers, and her shoulderâlength hair cascaded down like a waterfallâ¦
This scene was inexplicable beautiful.
Frederickâs breath hitched, his eyes glued to the sight.
Marguerite lifted her head, calling out in confusion, âFrederick?â
âIf you donât want to put on makeup, you might as well let your hair down.â
âHuh?â
Not wearing makeup meant letting her hair down?
Was there a necessary connection between the two?
Marguerite was completely puzzled.
Then, she heard the manâs laughter, laced with a hint of magnetism.
âLet it down. It looks great.â
Marguerite was a little lost.
Was he sure?
The mask she currently wore made her face look quite ugly.
But this man actually said that she looked good with her hair down?
The aesthetic of the rich was always a bit peculiar, something she as an ordinary person couldnât understand.
But being complimented still felt good.
Marguerite couldnât help but smile, happily taking the initiative to link arms with the man.
He escorted her out of the dressing room. As they passed a mirror, Marguerite noticed that they seemed to be dressed as a couple?
A wellâtailored black suit, cufflinks made of vintage pearls, echoing the diamonds around her waist.
He wasnât wearing a tie, two buttons of his white shirt undone, revealing his healthy complexion.
The outfit wasnât overly formal, but it had a strong, wild vibe.
No doubt, Frederick looked incredibly attractive today.
And the softness she exuded seemed to balance out the sharpness in him.
Looking at it this way, they seemed to be a perfect match.
âMarguerite, what are you thinking? How could you possibly be a match for Frederick?â
Marguerite quickly hid these thoughts, shaking her head and following Frederick into a luxury car, the statusâsymbol of him, heading towards the mansion.
Half an hour later.
âMr. Winston, weâve arrived.â
The driverâs voice had Marguerite looking out the window.
She noticed that the Winston Mansion was also located in an estate, although smaller than Frederickâs, it was still substantial.
Rows of bodyguards stood like royal guards, in formal uniforms on either side of the road, stretching out into the distance. Countless luxury cars were neatly parked on the lawn.
âMr. Winston, welcome home!â
Margueriteâs high heels had just touched the ground when the bodyguards shouted in unison, startling her so much she almost tripped.
If it hadnât been for Frederick quickly steadying her, she mightâve fallen.
âSorry, I lost my balance.â Marguerite looked at the scene in front of her, feeling a bit nervous.
She tried to grab the manâs arm, but Frederick was faster, tightly gripping her hand and gently pulling her up.
Frederickâs palm was warm, making Margueriteâs head spin for a moment, her heart racing.
She felt something different about this man holding her hand.
In formal occasions, a woman linking arms with a man was a polite gesture.
No matter the relationship, it wouldnât raise eyebrows.
But holding hands seemed like an intimate gesture between lovers.
Marguerite felt uneasy, attempting to pull away, but the man only tightened his grip.
She had no choice but to follow him step by step.
As they crossed the lawn, a threeâstory castleâlike mansion suddenly appeared before them.
Marguerite suddenly stopped, and Frederick looked at her. âAre you nervous?â
Marguerite turned to look at Frederickâs handsome face and asked, âI want to know, how do you plan to introduce me to your parents?â