Bride Behind the Mask novel Chapter 802

Marguerite clutched the bottle of painkillers as she dashed to the front door, expecting someone else entirely. Instead, a middle-aged man in a gray waistcoat stood there, smiling warmly at her.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Lockwood,” he said politely. “I’m the butler for The Reed Group. I’ve been sent by my employer to deliver an invitation for tomorrow’s engagement party.”

He handed her an exquisitely crafted invitation with both hands.

Marguerite accepted it, murmured a quiet thank you, and closed the door. She didn’t bother to open the invitation from Violet Reed. Her eyes drifted to the painkillers, and an unexpected wave of melancholy washed over her.

With a slight sigh, Marguerite tossed both the invitation and the painkillers into the basket by the entryway, deciding not to dwell on either.

The next morning, Marguerite dressed simply and made her way to Violet’s engagement party.

The event was held outdoors, modest in scale due to its nature, but still buzzing with guests. After all, Violet’s parents could boast a virtual monopoly on the silk market both domestically and internationally, which explained the many familiar faces who had traveled from Stonebridge City to attend.

Penelope and Jocelyn were already there, chatting with Violet’s mother, Katherine. They were surrounded by a group of society ladies, laughing and gossiping about the latest scandals.

After signing in at the entrance, Marguerite intended to join Penelope and Jocelyn. But as she approached, someone stepped into her path.

She stopped short, locking eyes with the man who had blocked her way, her expression freezing in surprise.

Maurice Winston? What was he doing here?

Dressed in a sleek charcoal suit with silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, his eyes held a familiar, unreadable depth.

“Surprised to see me?” Maurice asked, reaching out as if to touch her cheek.

Marguerite quickly dodged his hand, noticing the slight downturn of his expression. She didn’t hold back her words: “Six months and you haven’t changed a bit.”

Maurice raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”

“You still don’t know your place.”

After the funeral of Frederick and Teresa, Marguerite had returned to the Fitzgerald family with Penelope and hadn’t seen Maurice since. Despite his repeated calls to explain that he had no part in the gunfight that happened six months ago, Marguerite wanted nothing to do with him, even changing her number to avoid further contact.

But she knew Maurice’s influence spread far and wide, and his network was extensive. This knowledge fueled her natural animosity towards him.

Maurice picked up a glass of champagne, his gaze lingering on Marguerite’s face. “Enough with the temper. It’s time to come back. Dad misses Hayes; you should bring him around.”

“That’s your father, not mine.”