Chapter 496
Bride Behind The Mask
Meanwhile, in the executive suite, Marguerite clutched a manila folder nervously as she stepped inside, her voice timid, âUm, I have a report for you.â
Frederick continued typing, saying without looking up, âLeave the documents. Iâll review them myself.â
Margueriteâs words caught in her throat. This guy sure knows how to flip the switch. Just a couple of days ago, he wasnât like this!
She struggled to find anything to say, and finally set the folder down, her voice tinged with dejection and annoyance, âMy office is just downstairs. You can call me anytime.â
Frederick suddenly lifted his gaze, fixing her with a steady look.
Marguerite faltered, thinking he might have had a change of heart and wanted her to stay. She waited with bated breath for him to speak.
Instead, he uttered two icy words â âGet out.â
ââ¦Okay.â With that chilly attitude, she still had hopes heâd object to her arranged marriage? It seemed like wishful thinking.
Reluctantly, Marguerite returned to her office, restless and fidgety.
All day, she either stared at the office phone, hoping for an internal call, or daydreamed, wondering when Frederick would summon her. But the day ended with no call.
Packing her things to head home, she stood up and noticed it had started snowing again.
Marguerite had driven Jocelynâs old car to work that day.
The car, showing its age, had some brake issues, and the tires were prone to slipping in the snow.
With the snow coming down heavily, it seemed a taxi was her only option.
Marguerite thought this as she walked out of the companyâs front door.
The steps were covered in snow, and she carefully trod on them.
Her winter boots lacked traction, causing her to slip with nearly every step, her heart racing with every skid. Frozen in fear, she no longer dared to move.
After hesitating on the stairs, a hand suddenly took her elbow, escorting her steadily down to the ground floor.
Marguerite knew it was Frederick; his familiar scent was unmistakable due to their proximity.
Whether it was the biting wind or her own shyness, Margueriteâs cheeks flushed.
Though he merely held her arm and didnât wrap an arm around her shoulders, and despite the distance that remained between them, her heart swelled with joy.
She didnât want to consider his motives; she just wanted to savor this fleeting moment of happiness.
With that thought, she stole a glance at his face.
His expression was as unreadable as ever, his eyebrows sharp dashing, and beneath the wing-like lashes were focused eyes.
He was handsome, and undeniably charismatic.
âWatch your step,â he warned.
Caught off-guard, Marguerite quickly turned away, safely descending the final step.
It seemed he still had no desire to speak, but Marguerite, playing up her vulnerability with a hint of cunning, said, âMy carâs broken downâ¦â
Frederickâs gaze was leisurely, almost amused. Marguerite, thick-faced and engaging in this little battle of wits, seemed far cuter than before.
âWhat are you getting at?â he asked.
Marguerite blinked, replying, âWith the car broken and the snow so heavy, I doubt Iâll get a taxi. I donât know how to get homeâ¦
âYou could walk.â He gave a smirk of triumph and bypassed Marguerite, heading toward the open-air parking lot.
Seeing this, Marguerite hurried after him, trudging through the snow, a perfect little shadow to Frederick.
âI still think hitching a ride suits me better. Donât worry, Iâll pay you! It wonât be a free ride!â
âIâm not a chauffeur.â
âThen I wonât pay, Iâll just hitch a ride. That works, right?â
Frederick was speechless.